


Northern Targaryens

by orphan_account



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Almost an entire seasons worth of time, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arranged Marriages, Barristan Selmy Lives, Because I secretly hate Season 5, Betrayal, Canon Divergence - Purple Wedding, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Giant time leap between Chapters 18 and 19, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Oberyn Martell Lives, Post-Divorce, R Plus L Equals J, Robert's Rebellion, The dragons are smart, Things get happier though, This is turning out longer than I expected, War of the Five Kings, Wargs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-08-22 14:58:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 77,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16600145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There's a secret branch of Targaryens in Winterfell, and the 3rd generation, Raenara, is Jon's childhood best friend. How will she fare after the War of Five Kings?





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue;

"When did you get so serious?" I asked while we walked to the Godswood. Jon didn't answer, just kept on walking. "Jon? Come on, talk to me. You tell me everything," I stood in front of him, resting a hand on his chest. "Rae... It's nothing..." He lied. I knew he was lying, he wasn't the liar out of the two of us.

“How about I tell you something I've wanted to for years, and you just tell me what's been happening," I reasoned. He gave me an inquisitive look, "What kind of thing?" He finally asked. I shrugged, "Once we're in the woods. Your father will skin me if he finds out I said something."

  
That got Jon going; he held out his arm and I took it while he led me to the woods at a faster pace. "You know Lord Eddard would never flay someone right?" My friend asked me, a worried look on his face. I snorted, "As if I, of all people, would ever question Lord Stark's honor," I shook my head as we ventured deeper into the woods.

  
"Okay, Rae, tell me," Jon demanded. I looked around, assessing everything. "Do your stupid wolf thing," I whispered. Jon almost smiled and shook his head, "Starks don't have 'stupid wolf things' Rae." I frowned and looked around once more before pulling him to the ground with me, and putting my face inches from his.

  
"My names not Rae, it's Raenara. I'm a Targaryen. My great great grandfather went to Castle Black before my grandfather was born, so his mother moved here. She didn't want anyone knowing, and disgracing him, so we've always been a secret. I'm the first one in my family since the Maester that has silver hair, so your father has been getting hair colour, which is why it's different from my parents. My father expects it's cause I'm also the first girl, but who knows?" I whispered as I rubbed the ends of my hair in snow, turning it almost a blood red.

  
Jon stared at me, obviously not believing me.

  
"Wouldn't have been a problem, see, if the Rebellion didn't happen. If Aerys wasn't..." I trailed off as I inspected the dirty blonde hair in my fingers before grabbing more snow. "Anyways, your father and mine... It wasn't hard to figure out a story. My mother had travelled South for work, you know that story. My father believes they thought they were safe, until I was born. And then..." I held up the now liquid silver ends to his eyes.

  
"The Rebellion did happen, though, so now I'm a super secret. Your fathers honor is never a question in my mind. He saved my life. King Robert would have killed my entire family."

After 15 years, it was good to tell somebody.


	2. Chapter 2

 

I screamed and fought, hoping that if I gave them a hard enough time, they might just give me a quick ending. “You fucking bastards!” I snarled, lifting my foot and kicking one of them in the gut. “Shut the fuck up,” one of them rolled their eyes. My head snapped to the side as another backhanded me. They held my arms behind my back, so I could only try and kick again. That only earned another smack. “Ramsay’s going to love trying to tame this one,” the one hitting me snickered. I felt panic in my gut. No, this isn’t supposed to be how they react ran though my head as I started struggling harder. “She’s already pregnant, so don’t need to worry ‘bout no bastards. Just take care of it after it’s born,” one said with a wicked grin. NO, I screamed internally while the only sound coming from my throat was a full on scream, no words could be made out. It turned my throat raw as I threw all my weight forward, catching the guy holding me by surprise. I stumbled and caught myself after head butting the guy in front of me. He looked shocked as I kicked his legs out from him and ran for the door. I lunged for the handle and yanked it open, not looking back as I ran through the halls, thankful that Lord Eddard had given my family chambers in the castle itself so I knew the way to every exit. Years of sneaking into Jon’s rooms and dragging him out for an adventure came in handy as I ducked into a little nook barely large enough to fit in and almost invisible. I knew it lead to a tunnel in the cellars, further down than the room that housed our vegetables. I held my breath as the men swore and looked around the hallway. “It’s not like she could have fucking gone far.” One of them pointed out.

  
I covered my own mouth as a sob barely escaped. One of them must have heard it, because their head whipped toward me. He walked my way, and I watched in horror as the torch closest to him seemed to explode. One by one, all the rest did the same, until the corridor was one giant fire pit. I retched as I ran from the screams and smell. By the time I reached the ladder, there was nothing left except bile in my stomach and my tears had dried. I made it halfway down, but my foot slipped and I fell for a good minute before catching a ring and slamming into it. My stomach gave a good squeeze and I cried out from the pain. I had to stop while I dry heaved. My entire body was vibrating by the time I could start climbing again.

  
It felt like an entire lifetime had passed by the time I collapsed in the ground below. I curled up against the wall, comforted by the fact only a handful of people alive knew about this tunnel. Even Luwin was oblivious to its existence. Sobs ripped from my chest as my shoulder and stomach radiated pain.

  
A hand touched my shoulder and I screamed, reaching for the knife the Bolton men hadn’t found tied around my thigh. “It’s me!” A voice cried, and I blinked as my mind registered Eliyona’s face. The girl was no older than I, maybe only a year or two, but I clung to her and sobbed more. “They-they burned down the castle.” Eliyona sobbed into my hair. Hysterical laughter slipped out of my mouth as I pulled back and stared at her. “No, they didn’t,” I gasped between fits of giggles. “I-I escaped them and hid in the entrance way of the tunnel. When they realized I was hiding nearby, the- the torches just …” I had to stop as I doubled over, my stomach cramps intensifying. “Oh, Gods. I don’t know what happened, but they didn’t start the fire,” I continued. Yona gave me a sympathetic look, “The Gods happened, Rae,” she whispered. I shook my head, “The Gods abandoned us, Yona,” I told her hoarsely.

  
We started our way through the tunnel, not knowing exactly where we were going. When she asked if I knew, all I told her was that there was an exit in the Godswood, but it continued on and Jon nor myself had ever figured out where exactly it ended. So we trudged on, clinging to each other for strength as we passed through the cave in the Godswood. It was fairly hidden, the little bits of plant life that could survive the Northern cold had grown over the mouth of it. After hours of walking with no end in sight, we had to stop. Neither of us wanted to, but we were cold, hungry, and dead on our feet. The shock of the day’s events had long since passed, and Yona insisted I stopped so she could examine me. The girl had helped with her sisters 3 pregnancy and wanted to check for signs of a miscarriage. “I’m fine,” I snapped at her. “Rae; your stomach has been severely cramping, your nerves are shot to the Seventh Hell, and you hit your belly on the ladder. We need to find out,” she reasoned. I glared, but couldn’t deny it. “What if-What if I lost her?” I whispered.

  
The blonde stayed silent, only helping me lay down. I was preparing for her to get it over with when I felt a slight fluttering near my ribs and by my hip. “Oh,” was all I said as I looked down. “Did she just kick?” Yona asked with hopeful eyes. I looked up at her,” I think she stretched,” I whispered. She smiled and made a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “You should sleep,” she offered. I sat up and brought my knees to my chest. “I-I don’t think I can,” I whispered. “I can’t stop thinking about-Gods. What happened back there? All I could see was him coming toward me and then… he was on fire. The torch… it… the fire grew, Yona. One moment it was just a normal torch fire, and the next it was like a pyre. And then they all did the same thing,” I told her.

  
“My Mother used to tell me stories,” Yona pondered softly. “You see, her family were once handmaids and soldiers for the Blackfyre family.” She explained. “And she said that some of the things that have been passed on from those times were extraordinary. That the Dragon Lords And Ladies were sometimes born with gifts. That’s how they escaped the Doom of Valyria. A girl had a dream of it and they left. Sometimes they were born with ability to walk through fire and live. Other times they were born with the ability to manipulate the flames themselves. But those are only stories, and even those say the only time those gifts reveal themselves is if the Lord or Lady has a dragon,” She gave a soft smile. I furrowed my brow and bit my lip.

Eliyona seemed to content herself with the fact it was just a story. She didn’t know my secret, so how could she think otherwise? I shook my head, it couldn’t have been that even if they were true. I was only a third generation bastard, and I didn’t have a dragon. Dragons were extinct, killed by my ancestors over a century ago.


	3. Chapter 3

We lost track of time down there. We couldn’t see the sun rise and fall, so we went by sleeping. But that was unreliable, as I had apparently slept for ages after feeling my little one move. Eliyona has tried to stay awake to watch over me, but she was mentally and physically exhausted. When we woke we were shivering and starved. After we made more progress in an indistinguishable time, we came upon another cave leading out, and we slept again. When we awoke, the hunger was too much. Yona tried to talk me out of it, but relented when I said I needed to eat for the baby. She was absolute rubbish at hunting, though, so after chasing away her 6th rabbit, she handed me back the small blade and I ventured off further than she had.

  
With my stomach starting to bloat with pregnancy, it was harder to be as silent as I was before. So I sat and waited for something to come instead of actively searching. While I waited, I recalled the first time I had hunted. I had dragged Jon into the Wolfswood on a whim, convinced camping would be fun. I didn’t really pack anything except wine, which had annoyed Jon to no end. He had spent the night muttering and shaking his head at me, but I had seen the small smile on his face. There was no way he had thought my small bag had anything truly useful in it. So, he gave me his dagger and showed me how to hunt and skin a rabbit. Then we had laid out on our cloaks and stared at the stars, I had shown him all the constellations my father had shown me on our travels. It had been fairly cold, our hair and clothes wet from a snow fight that day, but it had been fun. My hair was its natural colour that night, the snow washing away the colour, and he had admired it as we laid in silence.

  
I returned to Eliyona an hour later, and we sat quietly as I skinned our dinner then carved a spit for it. She prepared the fire, and I skewered dinner. I heard a gasp and looked up at her in confusion. “What?” I frowned. “You-Your hair,” She whispered. I froze in shock, realizing it had been days without reapplying her hair colouring. “Shit,” I hissed. “Rae, what’s going on?” Yona asked in a pained tone. I felt guilty for the betrayed look in her eyes. For years, Eliyona has been my other best friend. Our mothers worked in the kitchens together our entire lives. While I hadn’t become friends with Jon until we were a bit older, Eliyona had been there since we were in swaddling cloths.

  
I turned my gaze from her, keeping silent. “Rae,” she pressed in a stern tone. “My father… Is… Was Aemon Targaryen’s grandson,” I told her in a hushed tone. “What?” She demanded. “My great grandmother became pregnant by Aemon before he was sent to the Wall. She moved to Winterfell and never told anyone about my grandfather. When I was born… Lord Eddard helped keep that secret so Robert wouldn’t kill us.” I explained hastily as my friend’s eyes filled with tears. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked. “I was strictly forbidden to tell anyone.” My voice was pleading, I needed her to understand. “We’ve been friends for years, Rae. Our entire lives. You didn’t trust me?” The hurt in her eyes was killing me. “I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t,” I walked over and grabbed her hands in mine.

  
“Jon knew, though, didn’t he?” Yona demanded. I opened my mouth to lie, to say no, of course not, but I couldn’t. She took her answer from my silence, turning away from me. “I… This hurts, Rae,” She whispered. I nodded my understanding, though if she saw I’ll never know. “But… I understand.” She continued. “You must have needed someone to talk to about being a bastard of a High Family. And Jon would have provided insight I never could.”

  
That night, our hunger sated, I went out and found a few more rabbits. “We should continue through the tunnels,” I told her. She just nodded her acknowledgment. I threw the skins into the fire before covering it in snow. When I was certain no one would realize what had transpired there without looking twice, I followed her into the cave. Days and nights might have passed, or only hours. We would walk until exhausted, then stop, set up a fire, eat, sleep in shifts, then repeat. Occasionally we ventured out for more rabbits, but that was it. By the time we finally reached what appeared to be the final cave in our tunnel, we carefully looked through the small opening. This side of the tunnel was barely large enough for us both to fit through together, and low to the ground. It was nighttime again, and there were fires in the distance. “Where are we?” Eliyona mumbled. I crawled out and stood.

  
My jaw dropped, and Eliyona came to my side, looking behind us. “I-I don’t really remember how to tell which way is North,” she admitted. “How about a giant Wall?” I asked, turning her in the direction of the massive structure before us. “Oh shite, we-we what do we do?” Yona whispered. I gripped her hand, “Let’s just go. We can go to Eastwatch By The Sea and try and get passage to White Harbour. There I can find one of the Spider’s little birds and contact him,” I told her. Yona nodded, “Do you- well, we can- if you want,” She stammered. I shook my head and pulled her along. She stumbled behind me, apparently shocked by my response. I sighed and turned, “I don’t- I can’t see him. Not right now. Actually,” I pulled on a chunk of my multicoloured hair. It had bits of blond, red, and brown in it. “I shouldn’t really be seeing anyone right now,” I frowned.  
That lead to an hour long search for a stream. After rinsing the colouring out, Eliyona wrapped my hair in fabric she cut off of her skirts. “We should stop in and see if their Maester will see you at least,” she started. I heaved a sigh, “Oh yes, let’s just stop in and ask my great Grandfather if he can check on my pregnancy,” I rolled my eyes. “Rae, he doesn’t know about you guys. Let’s just go,” she huffed. “Fine.” I snapped.

 

It took another week to find Castle Black. We got turned around a few times. Finally, we stared up at the Northernmost Keep in Westeros. A gruff man missing a hand came out, “What are you lot doing here?” He demanded. “I-We-“ I stammered. “We come from a small village a ways away. My friend here is pregnant, and she’s hit her belly, see. We were wondering if maybe she could see your Maester a moment,” Eliyona explained. I swallowed, nervousness making me nauseous. “Our Maester is blind and can’t do nothing much anymore,” the man responded, turning away. “I-Yeah. ‘Kay,” I muttered, going to turn myself. “Well someone has to tend to your wounded,” Yona argues. “No women at the Wall. Even visitors.” The man grunted.

  
“Please. She needs to see someone. She could die if she’s lost the baby and doesn’t,” Yona pleaded. I looked at her sharply, but she shook her head and stared the man straight in the eyes. The man looked at us with a pained look, “Fine. But come back later tonight. Can’t have nobody seeing you,” he grimaced. “Thank you. What is your name?” Yona asked. “Donal Noye,” he told us. I still think, to this day, that the man could only growl and frown. But we smiled and thanked him repeatedly.

 

Noye met us when the moon was high in the sky, and handed us two gigantic black cloaks, “Put these on and let’s go,” he told us in a sharp tone. “Tarly will take a look at you.” He continued. Eliyona held me close while we shuffled through the yard. I kept my head down with the hood covering my face while I prayed to every God that Jon wouldn’t see me. “Who’s Tarly?” Yona asked, and I could tell she just wanted to fill the silence. She hated silences. Noye gave her a glare and she put her head down as well.

  
“Tarly, make sure your quick of it. We can’t have the men finding out,” Noye ordered a man when we entered a room. The new man was … huge… for lack of better wording. He was also very… nervous. It made my own anxiety rise. Yona helped me sit down and we waited. Finally, the door opened and an older man and a very old man walked in. I held my breath and almost cried as I realized my great grandfather was here, still alive, in front of me. Yona squeezes my hand and I let the breath out shakily. “Miss…” Samwell started. I tore my gaze from Aemon and looked up. “Snow. Raenara Snow. Call me Rae.” I babbled. “Raenara… Almost sounds like Rhaenys,” Aemon observed. I just hummed in acknowledgment. “Anyways, Rae, I’m going to examine you and explain everything to Maester Aemon. He’ll use the information to figure out if they’re anything we can do,” Samwell explained. I nodded, “Alright.”

  
He motioned for me lay down, and I did. The examination was pretty short and straightforward, I think. I wasn’t truly paying attention. I kept staring at Aemon. I wished I could talk to him. After Samwell finished, I sat and Aemon suggested a couple of medicines and plenty of rest. “Where are you heading?” The elder asked. “We were going to Eastwatch to see if we can get passage to White Harbour,” I told him. “We just got our supplies. There won’t be another boat for a few months yet,” the third man told us. “Shit. What are we going to do?” Yona asked me with wide eyes. “We’ll walk until we happen upon a horse,” I shrugged. “That goes against the rest you were just put on,” She pursed her lips. I rolled my eyes, “What could happen if we do that?” I asked Aemon. “You could start giving birth. And baby’s too little yet,” Aemon said bluntly.

  
“What if we walked really slowly?” I smirked. He chuckled, “That might do it. But if you’re going South, you should get there before Winter arrives.”  
I nod my head, “Ah yes. Winter is coming. Gods, how many times have we heard them say that?” I asked Yona. “From Winterfell?” Samwell asked in surprise. I cursed myself for my slip up and shrugged again. “Do you know Jon?” He asked. I shook my head, “Working in the kitchens doesn’t get you very close to the Lord or his children, even the bastard,” I lied. I glanced at Yona, whose eyes had gone wide. “You-Your hair,” she whispered. I felt for the fabric and realized it had started to fall off.


	4. Chapter 4

I quickly adjusted the wrappings, and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Especially the Maester clouded lilac that probably resembled my own back when he was younger. Samwell cleared his throat, “Do you have anything you want checked before you two go?” He asked Yona. She shook her head, “No. I’m fine,” she answered. I shifted, “We should probably get going then,” I stayed. The three men said their goodbyes, gave us a small punch with the medicines, and we met Noye outside. “Everything alright then?” He asked. I nodded, kept my head down, and he walked us back to the front entrance. After dismissing the guards, we hurried out of Castle Black.

  
“Don’t be telling nobody,” was his only farewell, then we were off. “How do you feel?” Yona asked with concern in her eyes. “I honestly just want to sleep,” I mumbled. “We’ll go to Mole’s Town and see if someone can give us shelter in exchange for some cleaning or something,” she decided. I looked up at her, wanting to snap. I was too exhausted to clean. She seemed to read my mind and shook her head, “I’ll clean. You’ll sleep,” she said firmly. I nodded, stifling a yawn. “I can probably get some done when I wake up,” I told her.

 

The Inn in Mole’s town doubled as a brothel, and we hesitated before walking in. I squeezed her hand before letting go, while she smiled and asked to speak to the Landlord. “We just need shelter for the night. I can clean or help cook in exchange. My sister is pregnant and exhausted.” She lied to the dark haired woman who appeared. The woman’s hair and matted and her eyes looked suspicious of us. But I imagined she always looked that way. “Pretty girls like you two could stay a few nights if you’re willing,” the woman smirked. I felt my skin crawl at the thought of her suggestion. “I’m sorry, but no. My sister and I have been married, and though our husbands died in the war, they still hold our hearts. Doing anything but cleaning and cooking to work for our stay would feel… Well, it would feel as though we are betraying them.”

  
Her ability to lie so well took me by surprise. The story, of course, seemed necessary. The woman looked almost sympathetic. “Yes, well you can start in the main room serving drinks and then to the kitchens. I’ll show your sister to the room,” the woman said in an… off tone. “Thank you, Mistress,” Eliyona beamed. “Well, we cant really afford to turn away some help now, especially with the surviving men coming home,” she gave us a look I couldn’t quite get a final read on. It might have been sympathy, or maybe it was something else entirely.  
I forced myself to stare at my feet so I didn’t raise suspicion by trying to figure it out.

  
_A bastard learns to read things, people, and situations better than most._

  
The words replayed in my head, though when Jon spoke them to me, I wanted to tell him such political thinking wasn’t much use for a bastard. In the long run, no one cared about us. The only reason either of us were raised in the castle was Ned Stark’s honour. A lesser man would have sent his bastard away to live with his whore mother, much less allow a bastard of a disgraced House be raised in his Keep and protected. Nevertheless, Jon had given me those sorts of odd ‘lessons’ after discovering my secret. I smiled as a memory surfaced after I laid down in the room I had been shown to.

  
_Jon sat with me as I curled on a seat in the Winterfell library. I twisted my hair around a finger, momentarily wondering how it would feel if I weren’t required to slather false colour on it almost every day. He watched my movements carefully, “The colour dries it out. The ends are brittle,” he observed aloud. “Are you only just realizing this, Jon?” I smirked. “So much for a ‘bastards watchful eye’,” I giggled quietly. He mock glared at me, “You could learn some things if you gave it a chance, Rae. Bastards can learn things people don’t consider worth keeping from them. You could use that-“_

  
_“To do what with?” I snapped. “What is knowing a few secrets worth for a 3rd generation bastard of a mostly dead family? My only living relatives are my cousins across the Narrow Sea, too craven to even_ attempt _to come to Westeros, and an old Maester who doesn’t even know he sired a child.” I hissed. Jon had simply frowned at me, his dark eyes flashing hurt quickly. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, “I… apologize,” I mumbled. He straightened and looked both bemused and amused. “You what?” He asked, raising a brow. I shot him a dirty look, “You heard me,” I snapped. “It’s hard to understand when you only growl, Rae,” he smirked. “I apologize for snapping at you. There, happy?” I asked through clenched teeth._

  
_”I’ll take it,” he shrugged._

  
That was our time together. For some reason, the brooding Bastard Of Winterfell wasn’t so… stormy when we were alone. With me, he smiled and even sometimes laughed. It never failed to shock those around us when I brought on a smirk or some light banter. I can recall a day when a poor servant girl had tried teasing Jon along with me, and nearly got her head torn off. Sometimes Eliyona was able to get away with it, running on with a joke I had started. My mind returned to the day in the library, though.

  
_“Do you ever wonder what might have happened if Rhaegar has won instead of Robert?” Jon had asked suddenly. “Well, it depends. Is Aerys still dead?” I asked. “Either or, I guess. I’m asking you about your thoughts,” he pointed out. I laid back, my hair spilling onto the floor though my head a ways above it. “Well, Id like to imagine that Jaime Lannister would have killed the Mad King regardless. The war wasn’t really about him, though. It was about Rhaegar, Lyanna, and Robert.” I started. “I think even without the war, someone would have killed him eventually. So, moving on. From what I hear, though, Rhaegar was fair enough and loved by the people. I think if Rhaegar had been King-“_

  
_“I meant with you,” Jon interrupted impatiently. I tilted my head back to look up at him, “Oh. Well, in that case,” I sat up at combed my hair slightly. “I think that nothing would have changed for me. I’d still be here, a little unknown Dragon in the North,” I told him simply. “There has to be some life you can imagine where you’d be a Princess,” Jon pointed out. “Gods know you act like one sometimes,” he added. I pushed him lightly, “Hush. And no, I don’t see a life where I would be Princess. If Aemon hasn’t been a Maester at the Wall, he wouldn’t have married my great grandmother anyways. Even if he did, there’s no way my Father would have met my mother, so there would be no me, you understand?” I asked, giving myself a slight headache._

  
_Jon had just chuckled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, “There would still be a You in that world. I don’t think any world could exist without a Rae,” he chuckled. I sighed and leaned into him, “I guess we’ll never know,” was the only response I gave._

 

I awoke the next day to a dark sky. My heart was racing. I had just had the most terrible dream, but it was slipping away quickly. There was something… About a cave. I think. I shook my head and sat up, wiping sweat from my brow. The movement caused a toll of nausea though, and I quickly moved to the window.

  
Nothing came out, just as I suspected. Eliyona came running in, “Wildlings. Rae, you need to hide,” she hissed. I didn’t have time to register her words, to fully comprehend what they meant, before I was shoved into what could only be considered a closet in the Inn. Eliyona squeezed in with me and we held our breaths. I could hear the noises downstairs I had not before, my mind erasing the thoughts of caves in dreams and nausea. My teeth were clamped together so tightly my jaw aches as I waited. I didn’t know what I was waiting for, though, until I heard it.

  
Footsteps. Coming our way. I wrapped my arms around my waist tightly. As if feeling her space become even more cramped, my child had decided to use the opportunity to kick one of my ribs. I held back a gasp of pain, and Eliyona looked at me with wide eyes. I shook my head, eyes darting toward the sound of the footfalls that were now just beside us. I toyed with my small dagger in my hand, and waited for the suspense to end.

  
It finally did when a gruff red giant of a man pulled open the curtain. Eliyona stood, as if going to protect me. “Please, her husband left her pregnant with child. She’s-“

  
The man looked almost full of pity and sorrow as he stabbed her. I couldn’t bring myself to scream, though, as I caught her and held her in my arms. My jaw was still clenched painfully tight as I brushed her hair away from her face. I could feel tears falling down my cheek, and my teeth could not unclamp from each other to allow the sob in my throat escape. “Be… A… Dragon,” Yona breathed, her eyes flicking toward the dying hearth in the room. I would say it _was_ dead, save for a few embers.

  
But the only time I could remember anything close to what Yona was suggesting, and I wasn’t quite sure she was correct in saying such things, was when the Bolton’s had sacked Winterfell. But that night was full of terror and adrenaline. This night was … I couldn’t bring myself to feel much of anything in that moment. My only person in the world was dying. My father was already dead, my mother had taken off with one of Yara’s Ironborn, Jon was off somewhere for the Watch.

  
I heard another join us in the room. I only then realize that the man who had killed her was just watching us. “I suppose you’re going to kill me as well,” I finally said. I looked up from Yona’s flat eyes into his blue. “Go on with it then,” I snapped. He seemed surprised, which caused bubbles of irritation to bubble inside of me. “I’ve survived far worse than the likes of you.”

  
And it was true. The Ironborn had seemed to favour me during their short reign of Winterfell. That meant frequent beatings and worse. Sometimes they leave me a half dead mess in the floor, bleeding from more places than I could imagine. What had happened the night they fell had seemed to break the last piece of me. Or maybe it was the fact that I was truly alone in the world, even if only for a few months. I would feel Yona’s death more fiercely if there was a later, but for that moment, I resolved to die facing my killer with dignity, not giving him the satisfaction of having me beg and cry for mercy. I tore the cloth from my head, my hair falling out of the untied braids to my waist, the silver blonde of it overwhelming the peripheral of my vision.

  
If I was going to die, let it be with my own bloody hair, I thought with an inappropriate smirk.

  
“By the Gods, I thought the prick was lying,” the man muttered as his eyes stared at the metallic coloured strands. I frowned. What was he talking about? Bloody Wildlings. I heard another’s footsteps nearing, and turned my head to see a redhead woman-someone who didn’t have to colour their hair- turn the corner with a bow and arrow in her hand. “Tormund, you need to hurry. They might- oh,” she stopped, staring at me with realization.

  
“Well, isn’t that a surprise. Jon’s going to love this,” she smiled. I shuddered at the smile, it cold and victorious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, guys, I really have no way of knowing how this is going. I have no secondary reader at the moment (Though i do plan on making my cousin watch GoT so he can fill that role lol). I’m not actually one to ask for reviews, but one or two might be helpful please. Also adjusting the timeframe. Jon _was_ at Castle Black, just sleeping when Rae was there. I’m editing the Note at the end of the last chapter


	5. Chapter 5

I was dragged along by the two redheads, and tried to figure out what they meant. How did they know Jon? Why did the female seem to hate me so much? The man, Tormund, seemed more intrigued by me than anything. I caught him more than once staring at my hair, my eyes, and then my rounded belly. “Are you hungry?” He asked with a suddenness that made me jump. I almost gagged as I thought of eating, and shook my head. He gave a shake of his head “When my daughters were in their mother, she ate everything in front of her. How much longer do you have?” He asked. I eyed him carefully, why was he asking about it? “2 or 3 months,” I answered quietly. He full on stopped for a moment, before being prompted to move by the female. “You’re awfully small to be so far along,” he pointed out. 

_Yes, being pregnant during a war would have that effect,_ I thought bitterly. Instead, I said nothing, and continued to stare at my feet for the duration of our walk. It wasn’t very far, they led me almost halfway back to the Wall before we finally stopped near a camp. “If you run, girl,” the female hissed at me. “I’ll cut that baby out and leave you to die.”

“Ygritte,” Tormund rolled his eyes. I looked her in the eyes, while hers stared pointedly at my stomach. I refused to cower, though. Tormund cleared his throat loudly, nodding over to two men walking our way. “Who’s this?” One demanded with a sharp gaze. “A present for a Crow,” Ygritte snapped. “You’re not to touch her,” the woman added. The other men looked at me with interest. “Who is she to him?” The same one as before asked again. “None of your damn business, Styr,” Tormund answered in a warning growl. The other man’s eyes snapped, “I’ll decide what’s my business, Tormund,” he snarled. 

My heart started racing at the thought of the two men starting to fight right there, when Ygritte drew an arrow in her bow and pressed it the bald mans throat. “She’s _our_ prisoner, Styr. You keep away from her,” she pressed the arrow harder as she spoke. I swallowed a lump in my throat, and glanced at Tormund. He shook his head slightly at me, and I clamped my jaw again. 

The only thing that happened after that was the others stared at me openly. I felt as good as naked without my colour or wrappings, which surprised me. I hadn’t realized my hair was such a large part of my being. I longed for the fabric that lay forgotten in Mole’s Town. Ygritte and Tormund has taken to acting almost like guards, discussing sleeping shifts for the night. 

“What are you planning to do with her, Ygritte? Parade her into Castle Black?” Tormund asked her quietly. She gave me a glance, where I sat pretending to eat the bird they gave me, and frowned. “He talked about her a lot. Said she hid her true hair colour lest some Lord or King killed her.” Was the only reply she gave. “Maybe we should let her cover it again,” Tormund suggested. I felt myself start to gain hope, but quickly squashed it. Hope did no one any good. “With what?” Ygritte demanded. Tormund didn’t answer, just looked around. “Maybe we should just cut it off for her,” Ygritte suggested. I had to clench my fists in my skirt to stop from gripping my hair protectively. I had not yet any sort of haircut, even to cut the frayed ends. 

It, again, struck me how odd it was to feel such a way about something as simple as hair. 

“It’s too cold. The girl would freeze. Do you see how much of it she has?” Tormund asked her. “Why do you care so much about a Southron bird and her pregnancy and her hair?” Ygritte demanded suspiciously. Tormund didn’t respond to that, just got up and left. 

 

I awoke to chaos. Everyone was rushing around, preparing for something. I sat up groggily, wiping sleep from my eyes. “Wha’s happenin’?” I asked no one in particular. Ygritte pulled me roughly to my feet, saying something about time but my mind too tired to comprehend. She tied my wrists together with rope, so tight I was sure they would bleed, and dragged me by them toward Castle Black. 

“Mance says to leave her behind for a bit,” one of the bald men told Ygritte. “Unless I hear him myself, I won’t,” Ygritte glared, tugging my rope. I stumbled a bit, wondering why this exhaustion wouldn’t just go away. It made me feel disoriented and confused, which in turn caused frustration. My eyes longed for nothing except to close and stay like that. My mind wanted to escape back to my dream, where I had been flying without a care. 

My irritation only grew with those thoughts, and I heard a man cry out near the fire. I looked over toward him in curiosity. I looked as if he were trying to put it out, only to startle when it flared right back up. “Hurry up, now,” Tormund snapped at him. The man merely glared and returned to dumping snow on the flames. I stared at the dying light, a shudder running under my skin at the feeling of foreboding. 

I wasn’t expecting to live through the night. 

“How is it Jon left you in Winterfell?” Tormund asked me as we started walking again. I stumbled again, Ygritte nearly running in front of us. “I told him to,” I told him simply, staring at a spot to the right of Ygritte’s fiery hair. “And he just… left?” Tormund asked. “He didn’t strike me as the type of man to leave without reason,” Tormund remarked 

I blinked back tears as I thought of weirwood trees, an old man and long nights; of yelling, lies and broken hearts. “His Lord Father was leaving and so… I sent him away. He would never would have had a fair life without Lord Stark in Winterfell,” I explained in a tone that sounded dead to my own ears. 

_I don’t want you here._

I knew from the time I was ten-and-one my time with my friend was limited. That was around the time my friend had started saying his life had no meaning if he wasn’t a part of the Nights Watch. I almost smiled as I remembered how dramatic he could be at times. So, as we got older, I knew I was setting myself up for hurt. 

It had just never been my intention to hurt Jon as well.


	6. Chapter 6

I felt, not for the first time in my life, claustrophobic. As if non existing walls were shutting in on me. An imaginary lock clicking shut, leaving me to the cage of my own mind. I have felt that way many times over my ten-and-six years alive. In the few tomes the Winterfell library held on dragons, I remembered reading a passage about how locking them away stunted their growth and caused frequent ailments. I used to comfort myself with thoughts of the Dragon blood in my veins yearning for more freedoms in the times I felt that way. The thoughts no longer seem to comfort me, though, as I remembered my dreams of late. 

I glared at my feet, as if it was they who personally offended me. In that moment, with my irritation bubbling to the surface again, it felt as if they had. The stupid things kept moving closer to Castle Black, closer to _him,_ despite my mental protest. Tormund was still questioning what Ygritte exactly planned to do with me, but she never answered. After I heard her avoid the question for the 5th time, it hit me that the other woman might not know herself. I stumbled at the revelation, and she threw a glare at me. 

I kept quiet as we walked forward, for what felt like hours. Despite my desperate want to not do so, one foot kept going in front of the other. “I’ll wait here with her for a bit,” Ygritte finally said out of the blue. I jumped at the suddenness, my heart racing. Tormund watched her carefully, “Why?” He asked. “Because that’s what I’m doing,” Ygritte snapped. Tormund didn’t question it further, just kept going with everyone else. 

I looked over at Ygritte, trying to figure out what she was doing, and why. “My great grandsire is in the castle,” my mouth was blurting. Gods, what the fuck, Rae? I demanded of myself. “And…?” Ygritte looked at me with feigned boredom. “He was to be King once upon a time,” I shrugged. She hid any reaction she had to that. “My ancestors were the Dragon Lords and Ladies of old,” I continued. “So what are you doing North?” Ygritte asked, seemingly despite herself. “When my great grandfather joined the Watch, he did not know my great grandmother was with child. My great grandmother moved herself into Winterfell, and the rest, as they say, is history. Since she moved here without telling anybody about her child’s true patronage, my family was able to live a relatively normal life. At least, until I was born with this…” I glanced down at the tangled and dirty hair hanging from my head. “But Lord Eddard is… was… an honourable Lord that cared about his people. He knew that my hair and eyes would be a death sentence from King Robert, so he arranged for hair colouring.” I smiled at the memory of my old Lord. I stopped as I remembered when he called me to his solar to discuss his plans while he was gone.

_“King Robert is coming to Winterfell, and it is very likely I will be leaving with him to the South,” Lord Eddard had informed me before I sat down. I nodded and smoothed my hands over my skirts. I was worried that this meeting would be about something very different. “But of course, my Lord. If the King calls you to Kings Landing, Who are you to refuse, my Lord?” I smiled prettily. Something had flashed in his eyes, but I couldn’t read it, it was gone too quickly. “I just wanted to talk about what would happen with you_ if _I’m to leave,” Lord Stark had emphasized that word far too much, to my confusion._

_My smile faltered as I felt my heart skip a beat. Was he telling me my protection would leave with him? I could hardly fault him. He’d be going to King’s Landing, presumably to help the King. Why would he waste energy keeping a bastard safe? Gods, I knew this day would come. I knew that however much Lord Stark would wish to, he couldn’t help me forever._

_“I would like your permission to tell Robb,” Lord Eddard finally said, filling the silence. I looked at him in surprise, “My-My permission?” I asked, my brow furrowed. “Well, I realize that you and your family may want to keep your secret known to as little many as possible. I just wanted to make sure you would be alright if I told Robb so he can ensure that the order for your colouring will be consistent.” Ned explained. I allowed myself a half second to be surprised, before I nodded slowly._

_“I see no reason why Robb, Who will be acting as Lord of Winterfell in your absence, should not be notified,” I stated slowly, waiting for something else. “Will you be informing Lady Catelyn as well?” I asked in a low tone. My Lord simply shook his head, “My wife has enough grievances at the moment, and I see no reason to add to her stress,” he said simply. I nodded, “But of course, My Lord.”_

_I sat there, waiting for something else. Finally, the Lord of Winterfell cleared his throat. “I believe that to be all,” he told me. “Unless there is something you wish to tell me…” he continued. I shook my head, “I cannot think of anything right now, My Lord. Shall I expect Robb to have a word with me later on?” I asked. “I very much would think so. But you may go, for now,” Lord Stark told me. I let out a breath and stood, heading to the door of his solar._

_“Raenara,” Ned called. I turned back, my hand on the door handle. “Is there anything you wish to tell me about? Perhaps something to do with Jon?” He asked. “I… I do not believe so, My Lord. But I will let you know if that changes,” I smiled sadly. “Very well, on your way then,” he shooed. I nodded and left the solar, wondering if that was disappointment I had seen in his eyes._

“So you could have been a Princess in another life?” Ygritte pulled me from my thoughts. I almost jumped again, but stopped myself. “I do not believe so. If Aemon has taken his seat on the Iron Throne, my grandfather would have been a bastard still. Or, he would not have met my grandmother,” I shrugged. “But you are of Royal lineage?” Ygritte pressed on. “Former royalty. The Targaryens were dethroned some years ago,” I was enjoying frustrating her car too much. She huffed, sitting there contemplating my words. 

After a few moments, she stood and pulled me up. “Let’s go,” she ordered. I followed her, wondering what she was up to now. I allowed her to drag me along, before she pulled me ahead of her. I looked behind me in confusion, but turned back and kept walking when I saw her draw an arrow and aim it at the back of my neck. A small boy, perhaps only 8 or 9 years old, looked confused as the redhead marched me forward. I kept my head down, my hair curtaining my face. I looked up as I saw some men taking note of it and faltering, which almost cost their lives. 

“Where is Jon Snow?” Ygritte demanded. No one paid her any attention, which caused her frustration. I smirked at the ground, what did she expect, just walking in at the height of Battle? I raised my head and looked around, realizing that it wasn’t the height of Battle. It looked like the Wildlings were losing, their numbers drastically lower than those who held me the previous night. I frowned, and looked around again and again. 

Finally, I saw him. His clothes just as dark as when I had last seen him, his face contorted as I watched him fight off the man Styr. _Jon Snow,_ I thought with bated breath. I prayed to both the Old and New Gods, But wasn’t sure what for. My emotions were running high as I witness him fight, and observed how much more skilled he was than before. “Call him,” Ygritte ordered. 

“That would get him killed,” I argued through gritted teeth. She pressed the arrow into my neck, and I fought to unlock my jaw. My tongue felt swollen, and I wasn’t sure if I could call him anymore. I watched as Styr slammed Jon’s face into an anvil, and the doubt in my mind left as I opened my mouth. 

_”Jon!”_ I couldn’t recognize the scream as my own, it was too desperate. I worried that he heard, as I watched Styr punch him in the gut before throwing him though a fire. I thought I was going to faint as Styr pushed him up against a post, as I couldn’t seem to pull in a breath. I almost dropped in relief when Jon slammed the hammer into Styr skull, my heart pounding in my ears and my sight becoming blurred. I watched as he wiped blood from his mouth and looked around. 

“Jon Snow!” Ygritte called behind me. Jon looked our way and froze, our eyes locking. I felt my tears fall freely, guilt, sorrow, grief, and overwhelming, indescribable _happiness_ and _love_ swirling through me, an unabated storm throughout my being. He walked over, eyes never leaving mine. 

“Stop your men from fighting, Jon, or I kill your wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m thinking of a Jon chapter soon, but it would be third person. Rae is the only one demanding first person from me. I’m unsure though, what do you guys think?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m just going to put a TW for the last few paragraphs; mentions of rape and abuse. Not detailed, but they’re there

I watched Jon hesitate, looking around himself. “Ygritte, it’s almost over,” he finally stated, his voice hoarse and rough. I looked to the left of him, where a giant dire wolf padded over. I smiled at the sight of it, despite the blood on his muzzle. “Tell them to stop,” Ygritte repeated. I watched Jon wall over slowly, his hands raised. “Ygritte, almost all your men are down.” He tried again. I held my breath as I watched him step even closer, no more than a couple feet in front of me now. If I reached out, I could probably touch him. Gods knew that’s all I wanted to do. 

I felt the arrow press into my neck harder, “No closer,” Ygritte ordered. Jon nodded, “Okay.” He said simply. I watched Ghost closely, the dire wolf seem to not understand Ygritte’s warning, as he was now nuzzling my hand. I gave him another smile and pet his ears. “That means the beast too,” Ygritte snapped. “Ghost,” Jon called, his tone laced with fear. Ghost looked up, looking at us all, before he stalked around my legs. I saw what was going to happen a mere second before I heard it. 

Ghost attacked her. 

I let out a strangled cry as Jon pushed me out of the way, landing on my arse, and then went over to what I could only assume was his latest lover. The sight was horrifying, Ghost had her on her back and was ripping her throat out. I couldn’t move as Jon chased him away, and pulled her into his arms. Jealousy washed over me as he pushed her hair away, tears falling from his eyes. I had to look away, the sight before me hurt too much. But I could hear her trying to speak, only coming out as watery gurgles. “Shh,” Jon whispered. “It’ll all be okay, Ygritte,” he continued. 

I choked back a sob. This was less than what I deserved. I had told him off, annulled the marriage before it could truly begin. Worse still, I did it without him knowing until it was too late. So, while I listened to him comfort the woman who would have killed me, I spoke not a word. I crushed my hurt feelings, and stared out at the battle. It was over, with only Tormund left. I felt a twinge if sympathy towards the giant man, who was fighting off at least 4 men. Flailing and growling like a bear. 

After what felt like an eternity, I felt someone grab for the rope on my wrists. I jumped, something I’ve been doing far more than I was comfortable with at the time, and opened my mouth to scream. “Rae, it’s only me,” Jon said in a soothing tone while he clamped a hand over my mouth. I felt myself relax as I stared into his eyes. He watched me carefully, seeming to hesitate with his hand. “Are you going to scream?” He asked with concern. I shook my head, not able to look away any longer. Gods, his eyes were beautiful. They were so dark it seemed impossible, and in their depths you could always see the emotions he felt, for he never learned to hide them. 

It broke my heart when I saw the grief and pain in them. I was sure those emotions reflected in my own, though. 

As soon as he dropped his hand, I hurled myself into him. He wrapped his arms around me as I allowed myself to feel everything I had surprised for so long. Sobs ripped out of me, hurting my ribs and burning my throat, and I knew I was soaking his neck with my tears. But I could feel his own tears in my hair, and I knew neither of us would care. Not in that moment. I couldn’t seem to stop crying, not as I thought of every pain and loss I had felt from the time he left to then. I cried for our marriage, our child, and the life we could have had. I cried for the friends I watched die, the abuse I endured, and the fear I constantly lived in. He clung onto me as hard as I clung to him, as if we’d wash away in a river of tears if we didn’t. I knew he cried for Ygritte as well, but I couldn’t care as I pulled away and stared at him. 

He wiped away my tears as he stared back at me. “I-I’m sorry,” I hiccoughed. He shook his head and pushed my hair out of my face. “I’m just happy you’re alive.” He admitted in a thick voice. I choked out another sob, and felt guilty when I thought of how many times that could have changed. The times I wished it wasn’t true. I shook my head at the last thought, and grimaced. He hugged me tightly once more, before standing and helping me up. He held my shoulders and looked me over once more, as if he could see the injuries I suffered from. I knew that not to be true, though, as all the physical proof of my trauma was healed. He stared at my belly for a long moment, and I could feel my heart hammering against my chest. I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. 

Jon was good at that, letting me hold onto something before going to him myself. I also suspected it was because, as Tormund liked to point out, my pregnancy was barely showing. He probably thought I wasn’t as far along as I was. I watched him visibly swallow, and I stepped back warily. “I-I can expl-“

Jon shook his head, “No,” he whispered. I looked over at Ygritte, “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “It wasn’t your fault,” Jon told me in a hard voice. I looked up at him, and he shook his head. I understood and nodded, reaching out my hand in invitation. He grabbed it and lead me over to the small Keep of the Wall. I could feel the men’s eyes on me, and Jon only then seemed to realize my lack of coverage. He stopped and took off his cloak, putting it over my own shoulders and tucking my hair into the hood. “It’s too late, everybody’s seen it,” I murmured, closing the cloak with one hand and grabbing his again with the other. “Come, we’ll bring you to Aemon,” was all he said. 

I hesitated, falling behind a step. “I, Ah, you see…” I stammered. Jon turned to me with surprise, “Yes?” He asked. “I already saw Aemon. Yona brought me here a couple days ago,” I admitted with a flush. “Eliyona is with you?” He asked, eyes confused. I shook my head, “When we were in Moles Town, they-“ I swallowed, my eyes pooling again. Jon gave me a look of sympathy, and gave me another hug. “She’s with the Gods now,” he whispered in what was surely supposed to be a reassuring tone. “Fuck the Gods,” I snapped bitterly. 

He looked at me in surprise, but didn’t push me into talking. Just continued to lead time to the Maester chambers. “Another look can’t hurt,” he told me decisively. I rolled my eyes at him, which almost got me a smile. “So stubborn,” I muttered, shaking me head. “I told you I’m fine,” I resisted, though only half heartedly. 

 

I, apparently, was decidedly _not_ fine. Aemon was tutting at me, “Miss Snow, I said to _rest._ Running off with Wildlings is most assuredly not _resting,”_ he lectured me. I flushed, feeling like a small girl who got into the lemon cakes, “I didn’t _ask_ to get kidnapped,” I muttered to myself. “Yes, well, whether your adventures over the two days it’s been since I last saw you were with your consent or not, you’ve put your pregnancy at risk. There’s little enough Dragons as it is, you should be more careful,” Aemon told me bluntly. 

I stared in shock, how had he known? I hadn’t heard anyone say it in my presence. “The men are talking already. No doubt you will have to flee quickly, despite how much I advise against travelling,” Aemon explained. I suppressed a sigh, not allowing myself to think of just _how_ I could escape. I compartmentalized the thought away for a later time. “How is she?” I asked. “She’ll be a little sleepy, so you won’t sense much movement from her for a while. But that’s to be expected after such a trying time. You’re lucky she’s as grown as she is, for if it were still the beginning of the pregnancy, she might not have made it,” Aemon explained. I watched Jon stiffen, no doubt wondering just how far along I was. I hummed in acknowledgement, waiting for him to continue. 

“Well, as I cannot forbid you to travel with the circumstances, I _will_ say you most definitely cannot walk all the way to White Harbour,” Aemon frowned. “White Harbour? What were you going to White Harbour for?” Jon demanded. I looked up at him from my seat, “Crossing the Narrow Sea.” I told him in a soft voice. “Why would you-oh,” he realized on his own. I smiled at him sadly, then turned back to the Maester. “So how would I get there?” I asked him, finding patience for the first time in days. “A ship, while still stressful on the baby, would be preferable to walking or a horse,” Aemon told me. “But, you said-“

“I think we can arrange for a shipment of healing supplies to come. After all, we did just fight the Wildlings.” Aemon hinted. I watched as Jon stiffened. “She can’t-“

“Stay, Jon. She is a Dragon far out of her element,” Aemon interrupted. 

“She’s been in Winterfell her whole life. I think she’s adapted,” Jon argued. “That May be the case, but do you not think any of these men would sell her out to the Crown, in hopes for forgiveness for their crimes?” Aemon demanded sharply. “You forget, Jon, that being a Targaryen in Westeros is a crime. And the punishment for that crime is death. This girl, despite any history you two have, will be best off across the Narrow Sea. Even if she never meets Daenerys, she will be far from the reach of the King and his Council. She needs to leave as soon as possible, lest they send Lord Bolton’s men for her,” The old man continued in a warning tone. I felt my stomach drop at the thought of the Bolton’s. 

“I-I can’t go back to Winterfell. Not with Ramsay and Roose there.” I told them in a panicked voice. “They would…” I shuddered at the thought. I’d rather spend a thousand years under the Ironborn than one day with the Bolton’s and their insane bastard. Jon quickly sat with me, wrapping an arm around me. “I’d keep her safe. The Bolton’s would never get her,” Jon tried. I shook my head, “As much as you want to, there’s nothing you can do,” I told him in a whisper. “I _can_ ,” he told me stubbornly. 

“How?” I demanded, a little to loudly for the room. “What could you do as a Man of the Nights Watch?” I continued anyways. Jon flinched at my accusing tone, but I stared at him with anger. “I’m not safe in Westeros anymore, the Wildlings ensured that the moment they refused to let me cover my hair. As soon as the first person saw me with my hair and eyes, I was sentenced to death. Joffrey is just as Mad as Aerys was, and Stannis would kill me if he even _thought_ I’d try to contest his claim to the Throne, despite the fact I never would or could. I don’t think I can guarantee safety with Daenerys. But she’s my safest option. As Aemon said, even if I never reach the woman, Essos is _safe_ in a way Westeros _isn’t_ for me.”

I saw Jon grow angry, but he knew I was right. “I-I just got you back,” he whispered, looking defeated. “Let’s leave these two alone,” Aemon told his men. The men looked hesitant, but Aemon only chuckled. “What shall happen if we leave? He impregnates her again?” The old man japed. The two with him shook their head, but left anyways. 

I stood and ran a hand through my knotted, and probably matted, hair. I kept my back to Jon as I but my lip and heaved a sigh. “Rae,” Jon started, coming behind me. “Don’t,” I warned as I felt his hands on my waist. “Why not?” He demanded in a sharp voice. I turned on my heel to face him. “You never came,” I snapped. “Do you know what happened after Theon took Winterfell?” I glared at him. Somehow, at some point, my joy in seeing him turned to anger and resentment. I may have sent him away, but surely he must have heard something of his home. “I- No one heard anything, Rae. Theon had the ravens killed,” Jon snapped right back. 

I gave a bitter laugh, “You’re a _stones throw away,”_ I almost yelled. “That not fair. You sent me away-“

“I don’t care, Jon! Do you know how many times they used and abused me? Do you know how many times I had to sneak Moon tea to women? To goddamn _children?_ Do you know how bad it smelled when they hung Bran and Rickon’s bodies on the wall like their own fucking disgusting _banners?”_ I shouted at him. I ignored his flinching again, and shook my head. “I thought if you weren’t going to come back for me, you would come back for them.” 

Jon looked at me with guilty eyes, and I tore my gaze from his. “We couldn’t even recognize them, they were so badly burnt,” I whispered hoarsely, seeing the scene clearly in my mind. “The smell was horrid, but when someone puked, the Ironborn beat them bloody. Luwin, Gods… He waited like a newborn babe. It took hours to calm him. Eliyona and I had to stay with him by the gates, because he couldn’t move. I thought the grief would kill him, bless his soul,” I continued. “And there were other children as well. Little Reanna, she was only nine years old when-“ I stopped and covered my mouth against a sob. “They raped her to death,” I shook my head. “Eliyona, Luwin, And I had to sneak Moon Tea for everyone, lest they become pregnant. We couldn’t risk it. Even the girls who hadn’t bled yet drank it.”

Jon grew more angry with every word I spoke, so I forced myself to stop. The words sat on my throat, almost gagging me. “Why didn’t you leave?” Jon asked in a tight voice. “I couldn’t-“

“Yes, you could have! I know you could have! You could have sneaked out in the night through one of your tunnels!” Jon exploded. 

“And left everyone there without me? At least when I was there, the little ones weren’t raped as often! At least when I was there, the women got their Moon Tea!” I snapped. “So you would sacrifice yourself, our child, to save them?” He accused angrily. “You make that sound like it’s some horrible, unforgivable thing,” I rolled my eyes, not realizing I didn’t bother correcting him. There was no use correcting him, he was right. 

And the realization seemed to anger him more. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? Did you know before I left?” He asked sharply. I shook my head, eyes pooling, “I-I didn’t figure it out until Eliyona pointed it out, months after. I was already 3 or 4 months by the time I found out,” I tried. “And you never thought to send me a message? Rae, I would have been there for you-“

“And gotten your head chopped off as a deserter.” I interrupted. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d leave. But then you didn’t come back for Bran and Rickon, and I thought you wouldn’t care.” I shrugged, exhaustion sleeping through my body. “I’m getting tired,” I stated in a flat voice. He opened his mouth to argue, but I shook my head. “It’s been a very tiring day and I’m just about dead on my feet. Is there a room I can sleep in here?” I asked. He seethed, but nodded and lead me to an empty room. 

I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we find out Rae’s Mum is raving mad.

I sat, supported by as many pillows as I could have, and pushed my food while Gilly tidied a bit. “Did you hear anything today?” I asked in a flat tone. Gilly has been ‘assigned’ to me upon my arrival at Castle Black. The girl was my most frequent companion, and had been listening for any reason Stannis Baratheon night have had for allowing me to keep my head. Despite my protests, she also called me ‘M’lady’ and treated me as such. 

Stannis has arrived the day after the Wildling attack, and had made himself quite at home. He had demanded audience with me, and I had met him in the Lord Commanders solar. The only other people in the room had been Davos and his Red Woman. 

“I have actually heard something, M’lady,” Gilly said in an unsure tone. I perked up and nodded for her to continue. “It’s not… Pleasant,” she looked away and I frowned. “Tell me,” I told her. “One of the men was saying that he’s keeping you alive to burn you as an offering to his God,” Gilly finally admitted. I sighed, thinking of the jstories Aemon had told me about the religion Stannis had started following. How fanatics, such as Stannis’s Red Woman, gave their Lord of Light offerings in the form of human torches. “Why are Gods such assholes?” I muttered to myself. Gilly almost smirked at my words, but refrained. I took a sip of my coffee, then thought to myself. 

Thought of how Winterfell had burnt. “Such assholes,” I rolled my eyes, placing the tray of food away from me, lest I get sick again. Gilly eyes the plate of food warily, as I had only managed a few bites, yet again, but she took it without comment. “Can you ask Jon to come see me when he has time?” I asked as she headed to the door. She said she would, then I was left in my solitude once more. I threw the furs off of me, and stood up. I waddled over to the fire in my room, as my belly had decided to grow A lot in a short amount of time, to my skins irritation. I sat in the chair near the hearth, and watched the flame with my eyes. 

Stannis wanted to burn me, so I had to hurry with my new and only project. I had to see, for my safety. I reached out and caressed the warm air before the fire. Closing my eyes. I let my hand fall onto my lap, and thought of the torches exploding. The way the fire at the Wildling camp had roared after being nearly out. Both had been times when my feelings were beyond my control. The entire situation had been out of my control. But that was my life, really. I had been doomed to be out of control of my life since before I was born. 

I just needed to learn how to control _this._ This stupid fucking fire in the hearth, but the flames were their own entity. They mocked me from their little home, twisting and spiralling to their own will and not my own. I could hear laughter in the snapping and crackling. I heaved a sigh and repressed the urge to throw my coffee at the damn thing. “Stupid fucking useless fire.” I muttered, downing the last drops of my coffee, wishing not for the first time it was wine. 

I had just stood when the door opened, Jon entering looking slightly pale. “You asked for me?” He asked in a tight voice. I nodded and walked over to him, concern filling me. “Is Everything well, my love?” I asked softly. He looked at me, trying to smile reassuringly. It came out as a grimace and I frowned, reaching to push his hair out of his eyes. He leaned into the touch, and I allowed myself to enjoy the moment as well. This one moment of intimacy. Because as I slightly tangled my fingers in his curly hair, he stared in my eyes and smiled in a way I hadn’t seen in ages. Smiled softly, but it was as if I was the entire world. It was that small smile that made my breath leave my lungs, caused my heart to squeeze painfully. His grey eyes spoke more words than one could ever say in their entire lifetime, and in these moments, they spoke to myself only. 

“Its fine,” Jon sighed, turning into my hand and giving my palm a quick kiss before placing his gown hand over it and our hands dropped. I repressed a sigh, knowing I wouldn’t get answers from direct questioning. Gods, my former husband was complicated. I pushed that from my mind and decided to change the subject. “So what do you make of this Lord of Light business?” I asked, studying his features. He showed slight surprise at the question, but shrugged it off. “The Old Gods do not condemn those who worship other Gods,” Jon answered. “Yes, But the Old Gods do not demand such… Hefty prices… of their worshippers as the Lord of Light does his,” I responded coolly. I watched him grow weary

“I do not agree with those prices.,” Jon replied to my implication, “But, if His Grace can pay those prices, I cannot question them, can I?” I just barely held back an eye roll. “Have you spoken to Aemon about it?” I asked. “No. I don’t see why I should,” Jon responded. I shrugged and turned to sit on my bed once more. “Rae…” Jon called behind me. I turned and looked at him, “Yes?” I raised a brow. “Why did you do it?” He blurted. 

My breath hitches, and I turned my back to him once again. “My-My mother told me to,” I replied. I stared at the bed, my mothers face in the forefront of my mind. The fucking cunt. 

_“Raenara, you will end this sham of a marriage before anyone else learns of it,” she hissed in my face. I stared at her in disbelief, “Why? I thought you would love to see me wed, it means you’re free of me,” I snapped. She shook her head, dark hair whipping the air. “This isn’t how it works, Raenara. You’re going to make it to Pentos one day and offer your services to Viserys, to help him in any way he needs you to. That means being unmarried, in case he needs you to wed an ally,” My mother explained, for perhaps the millionth time in my life. “What you suggest is treason against King Robert, who is a friend to our fair and kind Lord,” I warned her. “It’s not a suggestion, Raenara. It’s an order. One day, the Spider will provide a way for you to leave this place. We just need to wait, for if Lord Stark finds out, its our heads,” Ria looked mad, laying out her plans for me. “Now, go pay a visit to Luwin. Or I’ll make a widow instead.”_

I knew better than to test her. She was a fucking lunatic, that one. “She forced me to do it. I had to send you away, as well.” I sat on the bed and couldn’t meet his eyes, so I watched myself wring my hands in my lap. “What did she do?” Jon demanded, eyes blazing. “She-She said she would kill you. And you know how crazy she was, I’m still not convinced she didn’t arrange for my father to die,” I admitted, eyes filling with tears. Jon knelt in front of me, but I still refused to look at him. “Rae… Your father died from a bad heart, he had problems with it for years,” Jon reminded me gently. I glared at him, “He wasn’t sickly until my mother went mad.” I snapped at him. “And she would have fucking killed you to, if I had let you stay. To ensure I stayed unwed and ‘pure’ for my cousin to sell,” My heart was hammering in my chest now. 

We always argued about how my father died. When he realized how Ria planned to use me, he threatened to go to Lord Eddard. After that, he started getting weaker until he died just months later. I don’t know how she kept him silent in those months, but she did. 

Jon’s eyes were a grey storm when I met them. “You should have told my father,” he told me. I bit my lip, and shook my head. “She would have told him that I was the one planning on leaving or something. I…” I heaved a sigh and shook my head again. “I couldn’t let her hurt you.” I whispered. “So instead you hurt me,” Jon accused, standing up. I looked up at him, “But you’re living and breathing,” I hated that my voice took a pleading tone. “Surviving isn’t _living,_ Rae,” he snapped, before turning and leaving. 

If only he knew that I completely understood that sentiment. I felt it in my bones, in every breath I took that I secretly hoped would be my last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s kind of everywhere Because I had no real direction with this one. It’s basically just a little background and to show that Stannis is made it to the Wall. I was going to write the meeting, but I couldn’t get him right in the scene.


	9. Chapter 9

“I correspond with Jorah Mormont from time to time, and he says Daenerys has just settled in Meereen. He said he’s talked to her, and she’s willing to meet you.” Aemon explained. I barely heard him over the racing pulse in my ears. “I-How am I going to leave with Stannis here?” I asked quietly. “I will deal with His Grace,” Aemon assured me. “I’ve arranged a ship for you from Eastwatch. It will not be comfortable, but I’d much rather you take it instead of riding to White Harbour,” he continued. “But, your health. I should be here, Grandfather,” I whispered. 

“I accepted the fact I’ll die alone at the Wall quite some time ago, dear girl. It gives me peace to know you will be on your way to the safety of Daenerys’s side.” I looked around the empty room, as if someone would appear from nowhere and arrest us for treason. 

Aemon places his hand over mine, “Raenara. You need to go. For your child just as much as yourself. You can’t stay here,” he told me in a hard voice. “The ship will arrive tomorrow morn, so you best start getting ready for your departure from here tonight. I have someone preparing one of our fastest horses for this journey. It should take little more than a day and a half, if you only stop for a few hours at one of the castles along the way.”

I stared at him in shock, my body going a bit numb. There was a ringing in my ears, and only one thought was in my head. 

_I’m going East. I’m going to Essos. It’s actually happening._

Obviously, having heard it pounded into my head by Ria, _knew_ I was going to Essos. But when Ria spoke of it, it sounded more or less like one of her other ramblings. She always spoke of some Spider, and how he was going to aid us in this grand adventure. I shook my head. Ria wasn’t here anymore, thank the Gods. I wondered if my cunt of a mother was miserable, some salt wife or whatever-

I jumped as there was a knock on the door. I opened it to see one of Stannis’s men. “Lady Raenara,”-I grimaced as I thought of the reason Stannis legitimized me as a Targaryen-“His Grace wishes your audience in the courtyard,” The guard informed me. I nodded, “But of course. I shall just-“

“He said immediately.” 

I frowned, but didn’t fight as I followed him into the snowy night. I fought a chill as I pushed on to the middle of the courtyard, my instincts telling me just run in the other direction. I didn’t understand why until I could see Stannis and his witch, Melisandre holding a torch in her hand. 

They stood in front of a pyre. 

Before I could move, before I could _think,_ I was being tied up by the wrists. I looked around wildly, looking for help with someone. But, of course, everyone watched in abject horror. I couldn’t see Jon, and wondered if he knew what was about to happen. I decided to watch the red woman, instead. She was cool and composed, which screamed psychopath to me, but Stannis didn’t pay any mind. 

“Lady Raenara Targaryen, His Grace has legitimized you the name of your forefathers. The name of men and women of Old Valyria who came to Westeros and ruled as Kings and their Queens until only 18 years ago. Your blood is the same as theirs, and in another life, you could have been a Princess. 

“It is for those reasons, we see fit to grant you the honour of sending you to our Lord of Light, for with your blood we will win this next battle and many others. In exchange for your righteous sacrifice, our Lord will gift us advantages in those battles.” The Red Bitch called into the night, looking triumphant. “For Stannis is the One True King, he is Azor Ahai, the Prince That Was Promised!” She cried, throwing her arms out. 

I started laughing. 

It was a hysterical laugh, one that had everyone staring at me in concern, or disbelief. “Stannis is nothing more than a Pretender, he has no more right to that Throne than the Boy King on it now, or his brother and father before him!” I yelled, shaking my head at them. Melisandre regarded me carelessly, “You will meet our Lord spouting lies?” She asked. “I follow the Old Gods and the New, Your Lord of Light has no more power of me than your false King.” I told her in a solemn tone. 

“This is enough nonsense!” Stannis bellowed, eyes blazing and jaw clenched. I was brought onto the pyre, which was covered in fuel. I gagged at the smell while my eyes watered. I tried to open my mouth to scream some more, but I ended up retching. I eyed Melisandre warily as she lifted the torch. “Lord of Light, I offer you this would be Princess as a gift! May you take her graciously as you watch over us. For the night is dark and full of terrors!” 

I heard Stannis’s men repeat the last words, and looked for Jon one last time. 

I watched the flame for the torch eagerly take to my platform, as the Red Woman walked around it and lit the corners. I could feel the heat against my skin, the fuel making it smoke more than it should have. I started coughing, fear running through my entire being. _I can’t do this,_ I thought with panic. For all my effort, I truly couldn’t do it. I couldn’t see, speak, or _breathe._ The smoke was too _much,_ it was too _hot._ There was no way I could try anything anymore. 

I wasn’t a Dragon. Even if I could have deluded myself into thinking so before, the facts were now laid out before me. It was written in the flames that danced around me, in their whispers and laughter. So, I allowed myself to simply accept the fact I was going to die, and that the only thing I could do about it was not give them the satisfactions of my screams. I closed my eyes and waited, the whispers all around me, making my ears buzz.

But I never felt the lick of flames against my body. I opened my eyes and realized the fire had made a circle around me, but it wouldn’t come closer. I looked up at Stannis and Melisandre’s shocked faces, and couldn’t contain my smirk. I watched them as I started allowing the blaze around me to whisper in my ear, and I allowed it to burn away my restraints. I watched their jaws slack as I moved to walk forward, as if straight through it, but it never touched me. I walked straight to them, the wall of fire the only barrier between us. 

_“Perzys zaldrīzi sēnagon kostos daor.”_ I grinned at them. The one phrase I knew in my Mother Language rolled off my tongue with ease.

And then I was running. With one last whisper, the flames started to run unrestrained, ensuing Castle Black into chaos. I ran to the stables, adrenaline pumping. My heart was in my ears, my vision was blurring, but I pushed myself. It felt like it took forever, but I reached my destination. I looked at the stable boy, who’s eyes were wide. “Which one did Aemon have prepared?” I demanded. “I-Uh” the boy stammered. _“Which one?”_ I yelled. 

“Tha-That one,” he pointed at the farthest horse from the door, obviously. I rolled my eyes and ran over, grabbing the reins and leading him back to the entrance. Along the way, I untied and released every horse in the place. I swung myself up onto my horse after I finished, and bit back a scream as the action threatened to tear my arms from their sockets. I looked at the boy, “You should get out of here,” I warned him. He didn’t ask me why, just bolted out. I looked at the torches around me, and then they exploded. 

_Just like Winterfell,_ I thought with a smirk. No, I corrected myself. Winterfell has been an _accident_ , this, though. _This_ was intentional. Pushing the thoughts of my arson behind me, I pushed my horse East, as fast as it could go. I didn’t let myself look back as what I told Stannis repeated over in my head. 

_Fire cannot kill a dragon._


	10. Chapter 10

I leaned over the rail of the ship, and gave a wistful sigh. “M’Lady?” Gilly asked with concern. I turned to her, and smiled. “It is nothing, Gilly. Thank you,” I told her softly. “Do you fwant me to find you something light to eat?” The girl asked, obviously unbelieving. “Yes, that would be great,” I lied. 

I was truly grateful for her. I was surprised when I saw her and her child on board when I finally reached Eastwatch. But, she explained Aemon had snuck her away previously, not wishing me to have no other companions than the sailors. 

When I had arrived at Eastwatch, I had been pleasantly surprised by my receiving. Most of the men ignored me, and the one who lead me to my ship had said that they were displeased at the King’s visit to Castle Black. I smiled softly as I remembered the man’s words. _“We have also heard what Winters Dragon did to Castle Black, and do not wish to meet a similar fate.”_

Gilly came up, “I’ve managed a few biscuits and tea, they’re in your rooms,” she told me. “Thank you, would you care to join me?” I asked, almost cringing at the pleading in my voice. Truth was, I was getting rather lonely. Even in Castle Black, I had only seen her, my great grandfather, and Jon. 

Gods, Jon…. 

I pushed the thought of him from my mind as I smiled at Gilly. She had nodded, and was walking down to my rooms with me. “How’s Your Baby with the sea?” I asked her as we sat at the table. “He’s sleeping a bit more than usual, but he’s doing really good besides that,” Gilly beamed. “That sounds excellent. And have you been practising your reading since we boarded the ship?” I asked. I knew she had only been able to smuggle a couple of books, but that was okay. 

“When I can, M’lady. It’s been harder without Sam, but I think I’m doing good,” she nodded, pouring the tea. “That’s wonderful. I do understand it’s harder to learn when you’re older, and maybe I can help if you’d like,” I offered. She perked up, “Really? Thank you, M’Lady,” She grinned. I smiled back and took a sip of the warm tea. “Was it hard? To leave your husband.” I blurted. 

The girl flushed, and I held back a chuckle. “I know not if you and Samwell are truly married, but I suspect that is only from the Vow he took. But, still, I imagine leaving him behind was hard,” I added, as if that made up for my blunder. “It… Is hard, being without him. But he is not my husband, as you have said. I hope I can see him again,” Gilly rambled. “Wives of the Watch,” I chuckled. “Maybe we should make ourselves a support group.”

“Are you feeling well, M’lady? I remember being only a little ways from birth.” Gilly, without any sort of subtlety, changed the subject. “The only thing she does that truly annoys me is stick her foot in my ribs,” I smiled. A little ways from from birth, I thought with a grimace. 

I sighed again, feeling rather hopeless. While I felt ready to meet my child, I was not prepared for it to be in this place. Suddenly decided, I got up. “I’m just going to speak to the captain a moment,” I told Gilly. She nodded and nibbles on a biscuit. I left her to eat, vaguely wondering how she felt on a boat. 

“Captain,” I greeted. “Lady Raenara. Is something wrong?” He asked, sounding nervous. I shook my head, “No. I was just wondering how far from Braavos we are,” I smiled gently. “If the water and weather stay the same, no more than a fortnight, M’lady,” he answered. “Good. Is it possible for us to stay there a while? I just…” I trailed off. He looked surprised, “We have no gold for an inn, M’lady. If you wish to stay there, we might get by with what we have and could buy there if we stay on the ship, but it would be pretty tight,” he explained uncomfortably. “But we can make it?” I asked with a raised brow. He nodded. “Well, then we’re staying on the ship.”

………..

Braavos was beautiful. I looked out at the horizon while we entered the city limits. It truly was beautiful. The water expanded further than the eye could see, the sun-setting then- turned it this beautiful orange and pink colour. It sparkled and shone, and I wondered how I could have lived my entire life without seeing it. The Titan was staring down and all I could think of was the Warrior. Even though I grew up in the North and mostly followed the Old Gods, I still knew and respected the Seven. I turned my gaze to the city itself, and it took my breath away. All the lights and movements astounded me. Even nearing nighttime, the city was still alive with activity. The captain anchored in a secluded spot, and we decided to turn in for the night. 

The crew was hesitant to let us explore the next day, but relented when I said they can guard us. I don’t think the captain liked me much, but I didn’t care as I explored the market. Even though we didn’t have much after buying supplies, I still managed to haggle Gilly and Myself some meat on a stick. “Be careful, M’lady. Most of the food from these vendors will have you on the chamber pot for hours,” one of the crewmen chuckled. I giggled and stuck a piece in my mouth pointedly, “I guess that’s a risk I’m willing to take, because this is really good.”

We continued to walk, though we bought no more, I had to start ignoring pains in my stomach. They weren’t horrible, just bothersome. “M’Lady?” Gilly asked I put a hand on my belly. I shook my head, “It’s nothing,” I smiled. She looked wary, but didn’t argue me. I looked a lot of jewellery, picking up a gold necklace. “This is beautiful,” I told her, holding it out. “It is, M’lady,” Gilly agreed, still watching me carefully. I put it back with a sigh, “Perhaps I shall come visit again, once everything works out,” I said to no one in particular. 

Gods, I shouldn’t have eaten that meat. I snuck a peak at Gilly, who seemed to be showing no reaction. “Maybe we should return,” I suggested weakly. Gilly nodded immediately, taking my arm and helping me. “Should have listened to you,” I smirked at the crewman. He threw his head back and laughed, “Yes, you really should have, my Lady.”

Gilly assisted me to the ship, and I retired to my bedroom rather quickly. I laid on my side, and stared at the wall, a horrible feeling in my gut that had nothing to do with the meat.

I don’t know when I fell asleep, but I must have, for I was in a cave again. It looked the same as the other times I’d been here, still completely dark and empty. I wouldn’t have thought I was dreaming about a cave at all, except for the occasional roar of fire lighting it for a few moments and noises. It felt the same, as well. I was filled with dread, anger, and betrayal. 

The betrayal was the most prominent. It ate away at me in these dreams. I couldn’t get over it. She locked me away. Why would she do that? I just couldn’t understand. I just wanted to fly, but because _he_ fucked up, _we_ were locked away for it. _He_ could fly, but we were trapped in this hole. 

I woke with a start. Gods, these were unsettling. 

I gasped as a painful squeeze radiated through my abdomen. I wrapped my arms around it and bit my lip. What the fuck was that? “Gilly!” I called, uncaring if I woke the entire ship. I stood and, keeping one hand on my belly, fumbled towards my door to swing it open. Gilly stood there, eyes blinking. “Yes, M’lady?” She asked blearily. 

“Somethings wrong. I don’t… know _what’s_ wrong, but _something_ is,” I rambled. Her eyes snapped open and she led me back to bed. I clenched my jaw as I felt another tightening, this one only slightly more painful. Gilly apples, and looked up at me as she met my eyes. 

“I think the baby’s coming.” She told me in a strained, hushed tone.


	11. Chapter 11

Gods, it fucking _hurt._ I think if the few crewman aboard hadn’t been so worried, they’d be impressed with my vocabulary. I gripped the bedsheets and let another scream out as a contraction hit again. “Push,” Gilly tried for a soothing tone, but it was marred by her raised volume. “What the bloody Seven fucking _hells_ do you think I’m _doing?”_ I demanded, breathing hard. She gave me a look I wasn’t sure of, could have been amusement or annoyance. I truly didn’t care at that moment. 

And through it all, I heard them, the familiar taunting whispers. _Fuck no,_ I growled internally. But another contraction came, and I was blinded by the pain. “Almost there,” I heard Gilly from the distance. “Put that bloody fire out now, you fucking idiots,” I heard almost right away. “Cap’n I’m not sure-“

I interrupted them with another scream, this one weaker from my sore throat. The whispers turned into a white noise in my ears, causing a minor headache. Fuck, I hated it. I would rather freeze than have to listen to that anymore, but I couldn’t block it out. The more I tried, the more my head hurt. And with these gods damn stupid ass contractions, I couldn’t deal with it. 

Finally, I opened my eyes and glared at the small torch we had been allowed. It sat there, crackling like it should, except for the stupid fucking whispers. I couldn’t make out what it was saying, if they were even speaking the Common Tongue, but they were just annoying. I stopped trying to block it out, and my head instantly decompressed. 

I vaguely heard Gilly telling me to push just one more time, when I realized that paying attention to whispers had helped with the pain. Focusing on that, instead of the pains of childbirth, had made it almost bearable. At the very least, it helped me concentrate. 

So I pushed. 

And after a moment of the pain ebbing away, giving away to exhaustion, I heard a tiny little wail. I tore my eyes from the hearth, watching Gilly tear through a chord with a small knife before wrapping a tiny bundle in a blanket. I winced as I sat up, but pushed through to look at the little bundle in Gilly’s arms. 

“It’s a boy, M’lady,” she beamed at me. “And he looks to be a good size,” she added, placing him in my arms. I held him hesitantly, I never held a baby before. But my body seemed to know what do to, as I held him. “Hello, Little one,” I said in a soft voice. He was such a small being, his grey eyes looking almost far too big for his face. My breath caught as he wrapped his tiny little fist around my finger. My heart was swollen, I didn’t think I could hold this much love for anyone, but here I was. 

“Welcome to the world, little Nathyn,” I whispered. His face scrunched up as he started to cry, his little head shook back and forth. “He’s looking for milk,” Gilly said in a quiet tone beside me. I flushed, and the men left rather quickly. 

I giggled as Nathyn started eating, he was bloody loud. “Do all babies sound like little piglets?” I asked Gilly in amusement. She shook her head, “Some are louder than others. Little Sam was pretty quiet, but one of my sisters was louder than Nathyn,” she recalled fondly. I snorted, and looked down again, content to just watch my baby. 

“How’d you come up with Nathyn?” She asked quietly. I gave a watery smile, “It was my fathers name.” I admitted. “Was your father kind?” Gilly asked, her face pinched. I sighed, and leaned my head on her shoulder. “The kindest. He always helped others before himself. We never had much, but there were others with less. He always said if our home is taken care of and we’re not going hungry, we owed it to the Gods to help others.” I remembered sadly. _We have to remember, Raenara, that the Dragons were almost wiped out. We must thank the Gods that we survived, that our Lord is a gentle one. We show that thanks by helping others not so fortunate. That is our duty to the Gods, both Old and New. Without one or the other, we might have been killed when King Robert won the war._

The Gods hadn’t saved him from my mother, though. Hadn’t saved Winterfell from the Ironborn and the Bolton’s. Or Yona from the Wildlings. The Gods abandoned the North, and its people, it seemed these days. I shook the thoughts from my head, I couldn’t think like that right now. 

I watched little Nathyn fall asleep, and ran a thumb over his little hand that was clamped around my finger again. “You’re lucky the Gods granted you a caring father,” Gilly told me, her tone rather rough. I startled a bit, remembering hers was a monster. I gave her a sad smile, “I’m sorry yours was a horrid one,” I whispered. She shook her head, “He’s dead now. No use sparing him any thought,” she attempted giving me a reassuring smile. It looked more like a grimace, though. 

Nathyn Made a gurgling sound, eyes still closed. I found myself smiling again, but quickly fell exhausted. “Here, I can go take him to meet Little Sam while you rest. If that’s okay with you, M’lady,” she added quickly. “It’s Rae,” I told her gently. “And I think that’s a great idea.”

…………………

Time passed rather quickly after that. Between Little Sam and Nathyn, it was a wonder Gilly and I slept. We both quickly fell into a routine, though, relying on one another to care for our sons. We took turns watching them while the other slept, and she ended up moving her tiny bed into my room as well so we could sleep while the boys slept for the night. 

Suddenly, the Captain was saying an entire moon had come and gone since we arrived in Braavos, and we needed to go lest we ran broke before we reached Meereen. He planned to go around Valyria, which while very long, was much safer than the alternatives. Our little boat made the trip that much longer, though, so everything was going to be rather tight. 

The days melted into each other one the trip, and Nathyn and Sam grew quickly. Nathyn was eating a lot, and I was soon going through more water than everyone else. 

“We’re going to pass Valyria soon. Can you feel it, My Lady?” The first mate asked me on day. I blinked at him, “Already?” I asked in confusion. “Already? My Lady, we’ve been back on the sea for two moons,” he barked in laughter. I furrowed my brow, “Have we?” I shook my head. “Yes, and the Gods have blessed us with very little obstacles. Even with two littles on board, it’s been nothing but smooth sailing,” he informed me. I looked out and looked at the clear waters, and knew what he had said was true. 

I just hoped they kept. 

“With these conditions, we should get you to your cousin nigh on another moon,” he beamed. I nodded, my gut suddenly clenching. I felt nauseous from the suddenness of it. “We’ll be fine, Lady Princess, you’ll see,” the crewman tried reassuring me. I smiled at him weakly, “I’m not a Princess, Gared,” I told him. He shook his head, “Yet. But the Queen is barren and in need of an heir, and here you are with your son to prove you can carry on the family line,” he grinned. “Still… She might not …”

“Not what? Believe you’re her kin? Because your hair and eyes aren’t proof enough? We have a letter from the Maester, plus he wrote to Jorah Mormont as well. Accept you? My Lady, think of your loneliness.” He told me bluntly. I looked up at him, “I have you men, Gilly, and the boys. I’m hardly-“

“I truly do not wish to offend you with crude language, but I call horseshit. I Know how it feels to be without family. It does not matter how many people you surround yourself with, you’re still lonely for people to call yours.” Gared interrupted bluntly. I sighed wistfully, and stared out at the ocean again. “As I was saying, think of your loneliness. She must feel the same, to some degree. And if you need some help, just think, you can give her the North,” he added. 

I frowned, “I don’t see how that’s possible,” I shook my head. 

“It is known Robb Stark took Sansa Lannister out of the line of succession, when she became the wife of the Imp. Rumour has it that the King of the North named Jon his heir, since Theon Turncloak killed his brothers. Gods damn him to the Seventh hell. But Are you not Jon’s wife? Is that child in your arms not his son?” Gared asked me, his voice suddenly hard. I gave him a wary look, “Jon’s still in the Watch,” I argued weakly. “Which she can overturn. It would be a rare thing, but it has been done once or twice.”

“I couldn’t use Jon that way,” I told him, resolve filling my being. 

“In politics, little Dragon, you have to get used to the idea of using people. Even the ones you love. The game of thrones is a cruel one, my Lady.”


	12. Chapter 12

The conversation with Gared left me uncomfortable, to say the least. _The game of thrones is a cruel one_ repeated through my head as we got closer to Meereen. I had begun to panic. What if I wasn’t cut out for this? What if Daenerys decided it wasn’t worth having a family member around that couldn’t help her cause? That couldn’t give her anything? 

I didn’t _want_ to be a Princess. That wasn’t the idea when I decided to come east. All I wanted was protection from the current Crown. I wanted a chance to live with my child away from the threat of being discovered and executed. I didn’t want any of what Gared had alluded to. It was too late, though. We got closer to Daenerys with every passing day. How was I going to back out now? I couldn’t. Everyone had travelled all this way, just to get me and my son there. 

Gilly was confused about my panics. The first time she had witnessed it, she was left helpless while I struggled to just _breathe._ When it finally passed, she asked what was wrong, but I couldn’t tell her. The words stuck in my throat, and I almost retched when I tried to speak. It was as if the air hit my gag reflex on the way out. But she didn’t grow frustrated with me, she just brought tea and brushed my hair while I struggled to remain calm. I sipped on my tea idly, which tasted rather horrid without a little sugar. But, we had run out of sugar days ago. 

“I used to panic, as well,” Gilly said absentmindedly. I sat up, “Really?” I asked. “Yes. After we escaped my father… It got really bad, too. Sam would help me through it. Sometimes it still happens, but I’ve learned how to get through it.” She explained. I turned to look at her, “How?” I cringed at the force of the demand. “When I figure out how to explain it, I’ll let you know,” she told me with an apologetic look. I turned away again, irritation bubbling in me. 

“I’m sorry, Rae,” Gilly said softly. I shook my head, biting my cheek to keep from snapping in anger. “It’s alright,” I whispered when I finally calmed a bit. “I understand.”

Life went on, afterward. The days started to melt again, and we had made it around Valyria. I started to panic when the captain said we were only a few days away. Gilly held my hair as I heaved over the rail of our ship. She rubbed small circles on my back, “You’ll be okay, M’lady,” she murmured. I shook my head, and opened my mouth to speak. The only thing that came out, though, was more vomit. 

“If you can’t stand the thought of meeting your cousin, this was a wasted trip,” Gared snapped from my other side. I turned my head to give a tired glare. “It’s true, my Lady. If the only thing you’re going to do is vomit, you cannot meet the Queen. Which means this voyage was all for naught,” he told me firmly, though I could see a glint of amusement in his eyes. I turned and spit into the water before standing straight. “Shut the fuck up,” I muttered before walking away. 

The only response he gave was laughter. “Very ladylike,” he called before I went down below. “He’s right,” I groaned as I sat on my bed. Gilly kicked the door shut, as she now had both boys in her arms. I admired that of her, I was terrified to try that. 

I was terrified of a lot, these days. 

That imaginary cage locked again, and there was no opening it. I was stuck, far from home, and entering a realm of politics I had never known. I reached out and took Nathyn from Gilly, and held him on my lap. 

I studied his little features as I forced myself to breathe. His little silverberry eyes looked around curiously, not quite my own amethyst but not Jon’s stormy grey. I ran my fingers through his already full head of hair. He definitely had my hair, I thought in amusement. Why my father nor grandfather had not had Targaryen hair, I’d never know. But, my Nathyn did. 

When I started breathing more easily, I looked up at Gilly. “We’re going into a court, Gilly.” I told her. “We have to go into my cousins court. And it’s going to be… Well, it’s not going to be easy,” I frowned. “It’s not going to be Northern politics, that’s for sure. Southroners never say what the mean, not truly.” 

I remembered when the King came to Winterfell, and Jon and I watched them with interest. The King has been a blunt man, but no one else shared that with him. Save for maybe the Imp. We watched in amusement as Lord Stark grew frustrated with their non answers and open ended words. I heaved a sigh and pulled my hair over my shoulder. Nathyn grabbed a fistful and squeezed, swinging his fist through the air. I laughed softly, grabbing another piece of hair and brushed it over him. He reached for that, as well, and I pulled it away. “You already have some,” I giggled. He scrunched his face and shoved his tiny fist in his mouth, covering the ends of my hair in slobber before I gently pulled it out. 

I turned to Gilly again, “Our days of peace are over,” I told her bluntly. 

She grimaced, “Winter is coming, M’lady.”

I laughed so hard I snorted, “Yes, exactly, Gillyflower. Winter is coming.”

Nathyn cooed, totally oblivious to the tension in the room. Little Sam crawled over and tugged on my skirts. I grinned and picked him up, setting him beside me. He leaned over and waved his hand over Nathyn’s face, babbling away. I smiled gently, “When we get to court, you will refer to me as Miss Snow. Not Lady Raenara. Is that alright?” I asked, looking from the boys to her. She nodded, “Of course, M’l-Miss,” Gilly flushed. I gave a smile, “Thank you.” 

I fought a clench in my belly, and thought of how I had effectively cut ties with my Northern roots before leaving. That the people around me right now were the only thing left. 

_Jon, you need to pretend that you basically don’t know me. That I was nothing more than a kitchen servant and all we talk about when you’re here is why you didn’t come save Winterfell. Do you understand?_

It had hurt, but it was necessary. Because despite what our plans had been, we were dragged into a game far beyond either of our understandings. Our life was not our own anymore. In that moment, I reflected my conversation with Gared once again. I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. I wish I could Afford to keep up the act on my part as well. 

_You could give her the North._

And I knew I could. It was perfectly clear, I already _knew_ Robb had made Jon the heir of Winterfell, instead of Lady Sansa. I heard the Ironborn talk of it, the loudmouths. They had laughed that Jon couldn’t do jackshit since he didn’t know, and besides, he was in the Nights Watch. I just never thought of what _I_ could do with that, being his former wife and mother of his child. I also knew that, even if Daenerys disregarded his kingship, _this_ was fully Robb’s right as Lord of Winterfell. I bit my lip so hard it almost bled, the situation in my lap troubling me. It almost felt _too_ easy. Nathyn could become the Lord of Winterfell before his first nameday, and I his Regent. While it was true Jon and I had barely been married more than two moons, Nathyn was conceived during that period. 

I also thought of Jon’s reaction to the news if I decided to do this. I hadn’t told him about what the Ironborn had said, back in Castle Black when I had the chance. I knew he’d feel betrayed, but this was our only chance at a life. If I decided to tell Daenerys that the North was Nathyn’s birthright, she could help us claim it for him. 

Wasn’t birthrights her entire campaign? 

“Can you bring me Gared?” I asked Gilly, ignoring the bone tiredness in my tone. She nodded, gathered Little Sam, and went to find him. He came into the room, looking slightly bemused. “Yes, M’lady?” He asked in lieu of a greeting. I picked Nathyn up and held him to my chest, guilt coursing through me, laying heavy in my heart. 

“You seem to know your way around court as well as knowing how the small folk feel. Tell me, Gared, how do you think the people of the North would react if I claimed their kingdom in my sons name?” I asked with no forewarning. He looked slightly shocked, but quickly hid it. “Well, M’lady, It has spread fairly quickly that you, yourself, were born and raised in the North. By the Gods, they’ve been calling you Winters Dragon. There would be opposition, of course, that a Targaryen is their Regent. If you could get Jon to publicly state that Nathyn is his son and he is giving up his place in the line of succession, though…” Gared stopped and thought. I tasted blood in my mouth as I bit my cheek. 

“I think they would prefer it to the Bolton’s, at the very least,” the man finally nodded. “It’s your homeland as much as theirs now, M’lady. And that boy is Jon’s son. I don’t think you’d meet as much of a fight as you think.”

I struggled to breathe as his words sunk in, realizing he may be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it seems kind of chaotic in this chapter, but that’s sort of the point. Rae’s contemplating something _huge_ And is completely unsure of it.


	13. Chapter 13

“You are simply overthinking it, M’lady,” Gared started bluntly as I opened my mouth to argue again. We’ve been going back and forth for hours at that point, speaking in circles. It had been a few days since the first time we spoke of it, but we were porting in Meereen soon and I needed to make up my mind. “It only makes sense, to do this. You have the largest kingdom in Westeros in sight, you only need to _reach_ for it. Jon will understand, one day. He is no reason not to do it. The _people_ will understand, as well. You just need to show them you are capable and kind. It would be a crime for you not to at least try to do this, M’lady. Your son is a Stark, he belongs in that seat just as much as Robb and his father did.” 

I shook my head, “And what if Jon decides to claim the North himself, to keep it out of our hands? Or Sansa decides she wants to claim it?” I asked. “Lady Sansa is a Lannister. So long as she holds that name, the North will never take her as their Lady. And if Jon decides to claim the Lordship, that’s all the more better for you. You would become it’s Lady all the same.” Gared shrugged. I frowned at his blatancy. 

“Why are _you_ fighting so hard for this? Who are you?” I asked suddenly. He blinked at me. “Because, the woman who boarded this ship was a lost, broken little girl. In the months I have known you, M’lady, I have seen potential. I have seen what you could be, and that is a hell of a lot better than the bastards who sit in Winterfell now. The North is my home, too, and I hate to see how far it has fallen. I’m fighting for this because I wish to see my home restored back to its greatness, whether that be with you and your child, or your husband. As to who I am…” Gared looked nervous for the first time since I met him. “My father was the Castellan of Deepwood Motte. He is the reason why I can speak confidently of politics, for he and Lord Glover kept each other’s council,” he admitted. I stared at him closely, waiting for more. I knew Yara had kept Lady Glover and her children captive, the same way Theon had tried to do so with Bran and Rickon. 

Well, maybe not the exact same way, I thought with a pang. I shut my eyes and swallowed hard, remembering the two boys, technically my good-brothers, with pain. I had to force the thoughts away, though, lest I start thinking of everyone else I watched die of late. 

“My condolences, then, for the loss of your home.” I finally said when it seemed he would not speak more. “Thank you, M’lady.” He said with a hoarse voice. I gave a weak smile. 

“I’ll do it. But, not right away. I’m going to keep it to my self, for now. The only ones who know of this are you, Gilly, and myself, understand? And I can make sure Gilly can keep it to herself.”

“You can trust me, M’lady,” he gave a short bow before taking his leave. I looked at Nathyn, sleeping on the bed beside me. I thought of his father, more prominent in his features now that he was almost 3 moons old. Truly, at that stage, the only thing he had of mine was the hair. Everything else was Jon. I laid beside him and sighed, “What have I gotten us into, my love?” I asked idly. Gilly opened the door, looking rather nervous. 

“We have made it, Miss Snow. The captain has anchored in Meereen,” she announced. I felt anxiety claw at my guts, but I fought it as I picked my son up and Gilly helped me wrap him to my chest in a long piece of fabric. We went above deck, and to our surprise, there were Unsullied on the pier before us. 

“Who are you, and what is your purpose in Meereen?” One of them demanded gruffly. “My name is Morvin, good Ser, and I am the captain of this boat. This young woman here is Raenara Snow, and she wishes audience with Queen Daenerys. We have word from Ser Jorah Mormont that the Queen is expecting her,” the captain explained smoothly. The soldiers looked at me in study, then nodded after a moment. 

“Yes, we have heard you were coming, Miss Raenara,” the same guard noted. I smiled graciously, “I am honoured Her Grace allows me into her home,” I told them, shocking myself with the lack of nervousness in my voice. I held Nathyn tightly to keep my hands from shaking. The Unsullied allowed us onto the pier, then four of the eight present lead us through the city. 

The air here was warmer than Braavos, and I found myself dreading the dress I wore. It was threadbare from being washed in saltwater, but still far too thick for the climate. I was sweating profusely, and I realized if I wasn’t allowed to change or bathe when we reached the pyramid I would most certainly not be in a state to meet a Queen. Gilly looked at me, and quickly decided it would be better if Nathyn was taken out of the wrap. She spoke to Gared, who in turn spoke to one of the Unsullied. They allowed us a moment to untie the fabric. 

It took the better part of an hour to reach the pyramid Daenerys took residence in, and in that time I had nearly fainted more than once. The Unsullied escorted us spoke to another that stood outside, and I held my breath. We went inside, and I looked around in amazement. The entrance hall was astounding on its own, the décor simple yet elegant, with golds, reds, and blacks mixing together. 

A young woman met us there, taking us in with wariness, “Her Grace says her cousin can go to her chambers for rest and freshen up before coming to the Throne room in a few hours time,” she said in a stiff voice. I took her in in wonder, her very curly hair twisted in the front with a gold something. “Thank you, Miss…” I trailed off awkwardly. She gave a tight smile, “My name is Missendei, Miss Snow,” she finished for me. I nodded, “Thank you, Missendei. Please relay my gratitude to Her Grace, as well,” I smiled. She nodded and motioned servants forward. They lead us in a flurry to another part of the building, far too quickly for me to follow the twists and turns we made. 

I looked at Gared, and his expression lead me to believe that was on purpose. 

“Here are your rooms, Lady Raenara. We have a bath drawn, and there are gowns in the wardrobe,” a young girl told us before leading us in. “If you men will follow me, I will show you the public bath,” she told the crew outside. I smirked at their expressions, but turned to Gilly. She held her arm out for Nathyn, “I’ll just find somewhere for the boys to rest while you get in the bath, Miss,” she smiled as she looked around the room. I noticed with a start that Daenerys had the room prepared with a crib and a few other essentials for Nathyn. One of those things included a little chair, which had ties and a net around it. 

Gilly laid him inside, so I turned and went into the adjoined room that had a steaming bathtub in it. I undressed and lowered myself inside, revelling in the warmth. My last bath had been in freezing sea water. Gilly brought the chair into the room, then sat behind me. “This place is beautiful,” she noted. I hummed as she started washing my hair. “It is. She’s done well with the redecorating,” I agreed. “Are you prepared?” She asked quietly. I hesitated, think of the way my hands shook under the water, “I hope so,” I murmured. She combed her fingers through the knots and tangles, “I think you’ll do great,” she said in a reassuring tone. I bite my lip. “I don’t want her to know of the North just yet,” I whispered. 

“I understand,” she whispered in my ear. I gave her a grateful smile, “I honestly have no idea what I’d do without you,” I said truthfully. “I honestly have no idea, either, Rae,” she teased. I feigned hurt and offence, and she let out a giggle. She continued to wash my hair, though we let out soft laughter still. Nathyn must have woken, because I could hear him babbling away in his little chair. 

After my bath was finished, Gilly helped me into one of the gowns she had set out. We decided one a simple little blue dress, though it took us a while to get on. “The neckline on this one isn’t as high, so it will be easier to feed little Nathyn when the time comes,” she pointed out. I gave a nervous smile, “That… Okay,” I nodded. She sat me down and started to brush my hair, “You’ll do fine.” She said for the hundredth time. I took a took breath through my nose and out of my mouth, “Will I?” I asked weakly, looking at her through the looking glass in front of us. 

She gripped my shoulders and stared at my eyes in the glass, “Yes, you will. Because you are a Dragon as well, and you will be Lady of Winterfell. You have to do well.” She reassured me. I nodded weakly, swallowing. “Alright.” She gave a smile before she went to fixing my hair. She took the top half of my hair and braided it all the way down, so it was out of my face. She then twisted it into a bun and pinned it. I looked at my reflection warily. 

I didn’t recognize the girl in it. 

The girl in front of me looked ready for anything, if a bit pale, but my heart was racing and my hands were sweaty. I wiped them on my skirts, and shook my head. The girls eyes looked nowhere near the level of nervousness I felt in my gut. 

There was a knock on the door, and I jumped. Gilly gave my shoulder a squeeze, then went to answer it. 

“Queen Daenerys wishes to see Lady Raenara now,” a voice announced at the door. My heart jumped into my throat, and I fought not to vomit. Gilly watched as I approached the door, “I’ll stay here with the boys,” she offered, almost sounding like a question. “Of course,” I smiled at her. 

The servant barely waited for me, Gilly had to close the door behind me because I had to almost run to catch up to her. The woman didn’t speak, either, though I was grateful for that. We went through multiple hallways before reaching a giant doorway. 

“Her Grace is waiting in there,” the woman pointed. I nodded, “Thank you,” I smiled. She didn’t respond, just turned and walked away. I looked at the doorway and realized the doors were already open, so I just walked through it. 

I looked around when I entered the giant chambers. The ceiling was higher than the tallest tower in Winterfell, and in the centre there were steps leading to a throne. I looked up and my breath caught as I got my first look at Daenerys. 

Her eyes were almost the exact same shade as mine, perhaps a bit darker. There were few differences between this woman and the one I had just looked at through the looking glass, admittedly. She eyed me carefully, “Welcome to Meereen, Miss Raenara.” Her voice was loud and clear, it echoed through the giant room. I gave a low curtesy, dipping my head as well. “Thank you for your generous hospitality, Your Grace,” I tried to mimic her volume, but couldn’t quite get it. I was sure she heard me, though, for when I met her eyes she gave a slight nod. 

“I was most surprised when I received word from Great Uncle that his Great Granddaughter was coming.” Daenerys started. “As was Ser Barristan, who served my father and the Usurper. Tell us, how was it your family remained a secret?” She asked. I resisted the urge to swallow, or vomit, but I managed not to do anything of the sorts. “My great grandmother moved herself to Winterfell when she learned she was pregnant with my grandfather, Your Grace. She never spoke of her child’s father, and no one asked. That was how it was when my father was born, as well. But I was born shortly after the Usurper took the throne, and Lord Stark realized our lineage when he saw the colour of my hair and eyes. Lord Stark was a kind Lord, and arranged for false colouring to be brought in from Lys before my first nameday. When I was older, he intimated to me that though the Usurper was his friend, he did not wish for more innocent blood to be spilt, Your Grace,” I explained. 

“Lord Stark was an honourable man, Your Grace. I know for certain he disagreed with the Usurper about how your niece and nephew were killed, and he almost resigned as Roberts Hand when it was revealed the other man was sending assassins after you,” an older man, Ser Barristan, confirmed to Daenerys. She didn’t looked at him, only nodded her acknowledgment as she continued to meet my eyes. “We’ve heard that you have the most interesting… Talents. Tell us, how is it you kept that from your Lord?” She asked. I could tell this was more honest curiosity than anything. “My… gifts… Were not granted to me until most recently, Your Grace. I had only a feeling for them until the Bolton’s took Winterfell, Your Grace,” I admitted. 

“What gifts?” Another man asked. He looked to be middle aged and I could only assume this was Jorah Mormont. Disgraced son to Jeor Mormont. “Perhaps Miss Raenara could show us,” Daenerys stared at me with a quirked brow. I looked as a servant brought over a torch, looking rather nervous. I smiled as I heard the whispers and stared at the flame when the servant kneeled before me. I had an idea in mind, already, something I had practiced on the boat. 

I held out my hand and the flame happily jumped into it. I moved both my hands before me, the flame curling up in the space above them, sort of like a lazy cat. I could hear the gasps in the room as I tapped my fingers against nothing, willing it out of its resting state. The whispers grew almost irritated, but I pushed it on, almost comforted more by it the larger it grew. When it reached the size of Little Sam, I clapped my hands together and it disappeared. 

I looked up and everyone stared at me in shock. I flushed, feeling timid for the first time since I entered Meereen. 

“So the rumours of Winters Dragon are true,” Daenerys smiled coyly.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Rae has a revelation, and joins the game of thrones. 
> 
> I would also like to add a _heavy_ trigger warning on this chapter for rape and ... Well, the Bolton’s. It doesn’t specify _directly_ What happened but it still gets pretty dark.

I watched their faces closely after the display, Daenerys was… beaming. I held back my own grin, while Ser Barristan’s Hand was on his sword, the same as Jorah. I focused on Daenerys again. “What happened the when the Bolton’s took Winterfell?” She asked me. I pulled my lip in between my teeth and frowned. What do I say? I realized the two men were growing uneasy with my silence, so I allowed myself to heave a sigh. 

“The night the Bolton’s took Winterfell, their men were… holding me… In my rooms.” I hesitated. She frowned as well, seeming to get what I implied. “Well… I managed to escape them, because my former husband had insisted on me learned to defend myself, you see. So, I managed to surprise them and ran into a tunnel that no one really knows about. I hid in the entrance of the tunnel for a moment, and one of the men almost got me.” I swallowed as I closed my eyes. The scene playing out in my head clearly. 

“I panicked when I saw him coming towards me, so I … The torch behind him…” I allowed myself to struggle for a moment. “It’s fire grew, engulfing the man coming my way. And then the others in the corridor did the same. By the time I reached the ladder to go below Winterfell, the Hall they were in was all ablaze. I burnt my home to the ground.” I admitted. 

That was first time I said it aloud. 

Barristan frowned, as well as Jorah. “The _night_ the Bolton’s took Winterfell?” Barristan asked hesitantly. I blinked at him confusion, “Yes…” I answered slowly, unsure of why he was asking. 

“Miss Snow, Winterfell burned two months after the Bolton’s took it,” Jorah explained slowly. I looked at him, my mind racing. 

_Two months._

“Shit.” I blurted. I couldn’t allow myself to care for impropriety, because I was _remembering._ I _remembered_ seeing the Ironborn flayed and displayed right next to Bran and Rickon on the walls. I _remembered_ the stench of death seeping into every nook and cranny. I _remembered_ seeing Theon as a pathetic shell of the human he was, and the petty joy I got from knowing he no longer had a cock. I fucking _remembered._

And it fucking hurt. I pressed a fist to my lips, biting my cheek. I took a shaky breath, then met their eyes in turn shakily, blinking away tears from my own. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace,” I choked out. She stared at me horribly observant, as if I was lying about this. She shook her head, “Missendei,” she called out. The woman from earlier came out with a bucket, and I barely had time to grab it before I retched. The woman held my hair and I realized I should feel shame for puking in front of a Queen, but I couldn’t. 

In that moment, I heard footsteps and saw someone drop beside me. “Told you not to bloody vomit,” Gared said in a strained voice. I looked up at him and gave a halfhearted glare, remembering our conversation on the ship. 

“Lady Raenara just remembered some… Horrifying things,” Daenerys explained in a soft tone. I almost jumped realizing it was closer than before, and Gared offered a handkerchief. I took it and wiped my eyes before wiping my mouth, looking in the bucket in horror. “I-My-“ I felt panic fill my being, and I looked up. Daenerys was standing just before me, her eyes filled with sympathy. “No worries, Raenara. I understand,” she waved off softly. I struggled to breathe and she did something I didn’t expect her to. 

She grabbed my hands, helped me up, then pulled me into an embrace. “Sometimes the mind repressed things to protect itself. It’s not uncommon for people who have.. Shared our type of trauma,” she reassured me in a gentle tone. I took a deep breath again; in through the nose, hold, out through the mouth, I repeated in my head. Daenerys pulled away, reaching for my hands again. “Why don’t you retire to your rooms for a while? We can speak more over dinner,” she suggested. I nodded weakly, my entire body numb. 

_Two months._

I barely noticed that I leaned heavily on Gared as we were lead to my rooms, fairly slowly this time. I vaguely heard Daenerys ask the rest of the crew stay behind to speak to her. I stumbled along behind our new tour guide, lost in my own mind. 

_“We’re the Kings men, you fuckin’ bastard. Be grateful.”_

The door to my room was barely open before I ran in to vomit again. 

…………….

Gared sat on the divan in the sleeping chambers I had, staring at me intently. “What happened?” He asked. “You were ready to meet her, you had control of your nerves,” he continued on. I stared at the wall, my entire body heavy. 

_Two months._

“I-They had Winterfell for _two fucking months,”_ I spat out hoarsely. He stared at me in confusion, “The Bolton’s? Yeah. They did, before Roose’s bastard burnt it down to make the Dreadford the capitol of the North,” Gared shook his head in disgust. 

_“I_ burnt it down,” I corrected him. I could see his jaw drop from my peripheral. 

“I was nothing but trouble for them, the same as the Ironborn. But, again, like the Ironborn, they had a sick fascination. So they were going to bring me to Ramsay to … Break me in.” I remembered our loud. “They… They said he would love to do it. I was already pregnant, so didn’t have to worry about that. That they could just kill it after… That’s when I escaped. Jon was so persistent on me learning basic defence when we were growing up, so I … I think it was because I was fighting back, instead of just screaming at them. They were surprised, so I was able to run. They… They almost caught me, though, and that was when the torch exploded.” I was choking on the words at this point, and I dry heaved. 

Gared was staring at me in shock when I looked up at him. I gave a dark chuckle, “That’s how I feel,” I smirked. He blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “What did you mean by a sick fascination?” He demanded. I shook my head, “It’s exactly what you think it means. Though, the Bolton’s must have had different reasons from the Ironborn. Theon has told his men I was Jon Snow’s wife, and they enjoyed knowing that I would have been Queen of the North. Maybe he told Ramsay, though,” I shrugged. “Ramsay was really only there for a month before I left.” 

“It’s almost time to meet the Queen for dinner. Are you going to be able to eat?” He asked, and I knew he needed the subject change. I was incredibly grateful, but that soured when my stomach turned. “I can try,” I offered. He nodded, “You should tell the Queen about Nathyn’s father tonight, instead of holding back,” he told me. I shook my head, “It’ll just look like I came begging for help,” I argued. 

“The longer you wait, the longer you’re sentencing other girls to the same thing you suffered,” Gared snapped. I flinched at the volume, and he softened. “I just mean-“

“I know what you meant,” I snapped. It was his turn to flinch, and I sighed. “Can you… Can you ask Gilly is she can help me change for dinner? I got bile on this one,” I asked tiredly. He took the dismissal and nodded. 

Gilly came in, explaining that Gared would watch the boys while she helped me get ready. I nodded, and let her idle talk floor through me as we chose another dress and I changed into it. _You’re sentencing girls to the same thing you suffered._

There was a knock on the door, and I heard Gared open it. I felt horribly distant from everything as we were lead to yet another part of the pyramid. I managed to stop my hands from shaking, though. 

“I honestly don’t think she faked her reaction. The poor girl had a breakdown,” I heard a soft voice saying from the other side of a doorway we approached. “That shouldn’t mean you legitimize her straight away,” another voice argued. Our tour guide cleared her throat, “May I present Lady Raenara,” she announced. I looked around, realizing that dinner was a small affair, for it was just Daenerys, her two knights, and Missendei. 

Daenerys stood and smiled at me, “Raenara, I’m pleased you can join us,” she said pleasantly while I was lead to a seat on the end of the small table. I smiled back, “Thank you, Your Grace,” I responded, internally flinching at the flatness of my tone. She sat down first, the rest of us following. “I thought we could talk some more, if that’s alright with you,” she continued. I nodded, “Of course, Your Grace, was there anything else you wanted to know?” I asked with another smile. 

“You mentioned a former husband, may I ask what happened there?” Man, she really didn’t waste any time. I held back a sigh of relief, all the same. “My husband is still alive and well. He joined the Nights Watch at the beginning of the war, Your Grace,” I explained with a nervous glance at the men. I knew what they would assume. “He grew up on stories from his uncle, so he was most eager to join, you see. I don’t think it was … All he thought it to be, though, Your Grace,” I added with a soft laugh. She looked at me with curiosity. “How so?” She asked. “The Nights Watch men mainly consists of men who are escaping punishment for their crimes or subsequent sons of Lords who have no hope of making a name of themselves otherwise. My uncle by law was the latter, of course, so when my husband joined, he expected his brothers to be the same, Your Grace,” I explained. 

“Would I know your husband?” Jorah asked, eyes wary. I nodded, “Most do. If not personally, surely by name and the situation surrounding his bastardness,” I smiled. Jorah frowned deeply, still confused. “Jon Snow, Ser Jorah. I’m sure you’ve heard of Ned Starks bastard son,” I clarified. He visibly startled, eyes wide. “Jon Snow married?” He asked. I nodded again, “We were only married briefly, though. Shortly after Lord Starks imprisonment in Kings Landing, we separated and he left for the Watch. I hadn’t known I was pregnant, though, until a few weeks after he left.” I explained. 

“He joined the Watch even though you were married?” Daenerys asked, eyes sympathetic. I looked at her. “I, ah, sort of had a hand in that, Your Grace. My mother was mad, see, so I told him the marriage was already annulled.” I admitted, staring at my plate. They all looked bemused, but I didn’t go on further, instead opting to take a bite of my food. 

“So your son… Is Jon his father?” Jorah asked hesitantly, and I studied him a moment. “Yes. Actually, thank you for bringing that up,” I cleared my throat, and pushed around my food. Daenerys sat a little straighter, and I wondered idly if she was as easy to read to everyone else. “Your son is Ned Starks grandson?” She asked tensely. I looked at her in the eye, “Yes, Your Grace, and it has been brought to my attention that, through the line of succession, he is the rightful Lord of Winterfell,” I told her bluntly. 

Jorah and Barristan stared at me in disbelief. “He’s barely out of the womb,” Barristan pointed out incredulously. I held the blunt end of my fork against my lips, feigning thoughtfulness. Then sat straighter and shook my head, “When the Lannister’s married Lady Sansa to one of their own, Lord Robb wrote her out of the line so they couldn’t get their hands on it. While on my journey here, I was informed by Gared that he named my former husband his heir. With Jon in the Watch, though, the Keep Of Winterfell, and the Kingdom Of the North with it, pass on to his firstborn son.” I explained. 

“Robb wrote out Lady Sansa because he was in open rebellion of his King, Lady Sansa’s betrothed, then” Barristan pointed out. I shook my head, “Joffrey _Lannister_ broke his betrothal vow to Lady Sansa and made Margaery Tyrell his Queen. They married Lady Sansa to _Tyrion_ Lannister,” I informed him, emphasizing on the family name of Joffrey heavily. He regarded me carefully, but I continued on. “And while Robb Stark was not a King, it was fully within his rights as Lord of Winterfell to write her off and name Jon the next in line.” I told him. 

Daenerys was staring at me intently. “What do you plan on doing with this?” She asked with a raised brow. I smiled at her, and this one was almost real, “When you march on Westeros, I will get Jon to make a public statement naming Nathyn the rightful Lord of Winterfell, and myself his Regent. With that, I can give you the North and their armies,” I told her bluntly. “Your son is a Targaryen, as well, though. Will the Northerners really rally behind such a thing?” Jorah asked tersely. I repressed a biting comment about his selling slaves, and answered with as much confidence that I could. 

“The North remembers a great deal, Ser Jorah. They will remember that the Bolton’s are cruel Wardens of the North, and recognize my son is a Stark just as much as his father. I have full confidence they will rally behind their rightful Lord.”

I turned back to Daenerys, “The North is the largest of the Seven Kingdoms, nearly the size of the other six combined, Your Grace. I may have left Westeros to simply escape its horrors, but I came to you with a plan. I can give you this Kingdom, all I ask is that after you sit on the Iron Throne, my son and I can live a peaceful life in it,” I told her. 

Who knew politics was going to help me feel… Almost normal? It reminded me of times when I was simply ... Maneuvering … Jon into seeing or doing something my way. The right tone here, a grin there, the correct words. 

“I will consult my Small Council and we can… negotiate more at a later date,” Daenerys told me with a small smile. I nodded, “Of course, Your Grace.”


	15. Chapter 15

_Jon POV_

_Our son, Nathyn, is looking more like a Wolf than a Dragon by the day. My hope is that he will be a man your father would have been proud of, a true and honourable addition to the wolf pack I’m sad to say is fairly small at this point. I must say that despite Lady Sansa losing her Stark name in her marriage, I truly wish she is one day granted a similar gift from the Gods. For it truly is a gift, Little Nathyn has helped me overcome what I suffered before his birth. I truly look forward to seeing what he could potentially accomplish in his life, for as a mother now, I realize my own accomplishments can only be measured by his. But I needn’t worry about much, here in Meereen at the moment. Daenerys is most kind._

_Yours truly,  
Lady Raenara Targaryen_

Jon stared at the parchment in disbelief. He understood the words underneath the ones on the page just fine. He realized that, in the few months it had been since he last saw her, she dove straight into the game the nobles loved to play so much. The one they used to roll their eyes at. And now she was a Lady, neck deep in their game, already planning schemes of her own if this meant what he though it did. 

Something twisted in his gut at the thought of her using their son in the way she was implying. 

He sighed and crumpled up the letter, not thinking twice before tossing it into the fire. He knew the only reason Stannis hadn’t demanded to see it was that Jon was now Lord Commander. Not that it mattered, Rae’s letter didn’t look like much without a second glance. 

My own accomplishments can only be measured by his. 

Jon looked about his chambers, wondering how it had gotten to this point. He remembered their wedding ceremony vividly, when they had foolishly thought everything would work out. 

But then his father was imprisoned, and Robb spoke of war. Jon always wondered what would have happened if he went South with his brother, instead of North to the Wall. If he had told Rae he know Luwin couldn’t actually annul the marriage, and demanded to know what was going on. Surely they wouldn’t be here, because after Stannis had declined them, and Renly had died, Robb would have had the option of Daenerys through Rae. Jon closed his eyes and forced the thoughts away. Robb was dead, Jon had forsaken his wedding vows for the ones he swore to the Wall, and Rae was in Essos now. 

She was East, quite some leagues away, yet somehow planning to take the North in their sons name so she could rule as Regent. 

He could think of nothing to say to her, in that moment, not with Stannis right there in Castle Black. 

……………

_Rae POV_

I sat in what served as Daenerys’s Small Council chambers, and repressed a sigh. “The fact of the matter is, we can’t be certain that the North will follow us in this. It would have been easier if we had Jon, but we don’t. We have his bastard and former wife, both of whom have silver hair. You were correct in saying the North remembers, My Lady. They will remember that you are a Targaryen first and foremost,” Jorah was saying, once again. 

“We can rectify Nathyn’s bastard status, he is a Stark as much as Jon,” I informed him with a hard tone. “They still won’t accept a Targaryen as his Regent,” Jorah countered with the same hardness. “Forgive me, Ser Jorah, but you haven’t been North in a few years, have you?” I demanded, not regretting the low blow for a moment. Before he could answer, I was pushing forward. “No, so you haven’t witnessed what has happened under Roose’s reign as Warden of the North. He and his son lay waste to nearly everything they touch. His men that roam the kingdom are no better than pirates, raping and taking what they like because they can. This isn’t some weak plot, it is my sons right as a Stark of Winterfell. The North _will_ follow him,” I stared at him, daring him to contest this again. 

Barristan stayed uneasily quiet, leaving Ser Jorah and I to go back and forth. Daenerys watched us in interest. Jorah met my gaze steadily, and my jaw clenched painfully. This was the third meeting we’ve had, and I hoped I didn’t play my hand too heavily, for they all ended this way. 

I promised Daenerys a Kingdom, and I was probably the first person to do so. The War of Five Kings has been fought for barely over a year, and two of said Kings were dead. I imagine in another lifetime, I would have only been a pawn for my cousin and Robb. I could still hear Robb’s parting words before he took his army, the one I was now hoping to use, and marched South. 

_You are a Targaryen, Raenara, but you are also a Northerner. I hope it never comes to a point where you have to choose which part of you is more important._

I closed my eyes and counted to five, willing my heart to calm down. I had no room for hesitance, or fear. “I promised you the North, no matter what. I can, and I will, keep that promise, Your Grace,” I told them adamantly. Daenerys studied me carefully, and I wondered if she saw the same thing every time she did so. “I really do believe you mean that, My Lady,” Ser Barristan finally spoke, “But that isn’t why we keep coming to this stalemate.”

I looked at him carefully, sliding my tongue between my teeth to keep my jaw unlocked. “I think if Jon had answered your letter, it would help. Mayhap if you write again…” he suggested cautiously. 

They all winced as the fire in the hearth grew in size for a moment. I really had to work on that. I closed my eyes again, then finally said, “If Jon didn’t answer my letter, it means Stannis still resides in Castle Black and he cannot. I will not endanger the father of my son, my lifelong friend, more than I can help. Mayhap if you had more ears in the North, I would know exactly when I can write him again.” 

“Our source in Westeros has been listening for word in the North, but the last they heard, Stannis was still in seclusion with his Red Lady after he failed to sacrifice you, My Lady,” Jorah explained, yet again. I repressed another sigh, feeling a migraine coming. 

“Then I think we should wait to speak of this again.” Daenerys stated. “For if we cannot reach an understanding, there is no reason to.” We all took the dismissal, and I stood with the rest of the room to leave. “No, stay, Raenara,” Daenerys called and I blinked at her. 

We hadn’t been alone yet. 

But, I guess I should have expected it, I realized as I moved to sit beside her after everyone but Grey Worm left. She had dismissed Missendei, which didn’t happen often. I nervously sipped the wine she offered, and she smiled. “The men that give me council insisted that you should provide me with something in return for something that I do not consider a favour, for lack of better words. Taking you in wasn’t a choice, for me, it was a miracle. I thought I was the last Targaryen, and that our family would die out because my infertility,” she told me. I managed to hide my shock at that fairly well, for the amateur I was to it. 

“You brought hope for our House with you, Raenara, and I will forever be grateful for that. Before you, I had wondered just what would happen to the Iron Throne after my reign has ended. Now, I know there is a future for House Targaryen to rule the Seven Kingdoms again. We are but few in numbers, now that Maester Aemonf has passed. Which is why I’m intrigued you are not pushing for you or your son to be named my heir, instead opting for the lower position of Wardeness of the North. A position, I might add, is perfectly within my rights to name your former husband.”

I stared at her bluntness, but didn’t question it. I stared at my wine glass while I pondered her words. I could see her confusion, because if I were a braver woman, I would demand to be named Crown Princess. Once upon a time, I perhaps _would_ have. Robb had suggested such a thing, quite some time ago. 

_“You are her family, Raenara, why haven’t you reached out to her yet?” He demanded. “Because my father and I agreed that to do so would be treason and appear ungrateful for all your father has done for us, My Lord.”_

Therein lies my problem, I still had loyalty to the North. It was my _home,_ whereas the other six Kingdoms were still only unknown enemies. I was a war wary woman, and the North was safe in a way the rest of Westeros was not. So I took in a breath and met Daenerys’s eyes, “Before war ravaged the Kingdoms, I lived a perfectly normal life. Everything was working so well, I was blissfully married to my best friend and we had our lives in front of us. We feared nothing, taking frequent trips deeper into the Godswood where we wed, Ghost following us to protect us from other wolves should they try for our food. But then, my mother threatened his life, because she planned for me to join you and your brother in Pentos. A marriage only complicated what she said was my duty. So I lead my husband to believe I ended the marriage, and I was horribly depressed. Then, my Lord went South, which everyone was terrified of what that meant for our future. Northerners going South is a rare thing, and there are few that make it back. Merely two months later, my Lord was in the Black Cells, and his eldest son spoke of rebelling. I, then, chose to send my husband to the Wall rather than chance him going South with his brother. Which was the right choice, my good-brother is dead now. Killed at his uncles wedding.” I paused to take a drink of the wine, and hesitated before beginning again. 

“From what I have witnessed, Starks don’t do well in the South, and my son is a Stark, Your Grace. I would rather take a lower position that I know can keep him safe than aim higher and risk his life.” I bit my lip and wondered if maybe I had just damned myself. But Daenerys was considering my words. “That is … A very cautious way to live. I understand it, though,” she finally said. 

I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. So we sat in comfortable silence a moment. “But think of all the horrors you have faced in Winterfell, yourself, Raenara. Your mother threatened your husbands life in her madness, it sounds as if you went through a lot before war was a thought in anyone’s head,” she added softly. I blinked at her in surprise, wondering what her plans were. “I also met aforementioned husband there, Your Grace. And… I couldn’t imagine not having him in my life. Without him, I would be without even common literacy. My life in Winterfell, while terrible and cruel the last year, has defined who I am a person. Less than a year of hardships will not change the ten and six wonderful years I had before that. My pain only helped me figure who I am and what I want. And what I want is to make sure none of my people have to endure such a thing again; that means taking the North from the men who caused that awfulness,” I shook my head. That was more rambling than I had intended. What was I saying at this point? I repressed a sigh, yet again. 

My migraine was pounding. “If I may have your leave, Your Grace, I feel a bit of a headache coming on,” I smiled weakly. She nodded, so I stood up and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we finally get a peek into Jon’s head in this. I wrote 2/3 of this last night when i was supposed to be sleeping before an early shift, so hopefully i didn’t make too much a mess.  
> Thanks for reading ^.^


	16. Chapter 16

I held the letter in my shaking hands, unsure of what to do with it. It had been passed to me on one of my outings by a poor boy whose mother I had just given coin. I didn’t think anything of it, at the time. Just slipped it into my sleeve with only Gilly to see, and we came back to the palace. I came to my rooms, and there it was. 

The Hand of the King seal. 

“Fetch me Ser Barristan,” I called to a guard outside my room. “Yes, My Lady,” the Unsullied bowed before running off. I fiddled with the ends of my hair, unsure of what to do with this. I hadn’t opened it, of course. I had heard that sometimes royals could put poison in the ink, to kill their foes from afar with very little proof toward them. So it sat on the desk in the study I had been provided, seal untouched. 

Ser Barristan came in, look confused and wary. I turned to him, clenching my fists to stop them from shaking. “I was passed a letter from the Hand of the Boy King, yet I have no reason to receive such a thing,” I started in lieu of a greeting. He turned to my desk, “Who gave you it?” He asked, perplexed. “A boy whose family I had just fed. I need to know who in Kings Lansing employs _children,_ like a craven,” I requested, looking at little Nathyn in his seat beside me. “That would be Lord Varys, the Master Of Whispers, My Lady,” he answered calmly. I bit my cheek, and sat down. “Would he poison such a letter?” I asked, picking the letter up again. “No, My Lady,” he shook his head. “The Spider is a many great things, but assassin is not one of them,” he continued. 

I froze at the monicker, then returned to the letter. I opened it, unfurling the scroll. The contents took my breath, and I looked up at him. My heart was racing, and my hands shook. “What is it, My Lady?” He asked, face concerned. I heaved a sigh, and dropped the letter. 

“A royal pardon, for Ser Jorah,” I rasped. “From Robert Baratheon,” I added, though it wasn’t necessary. Ser Barristan had seemed to understand that already. I stood and walked over to the wine I never drank, and downed an entire cup. “We need to tell the Queen,” Ser Barristan stared firmly. “I already know that, I’m just preparing,” I rolled my eyes at the glass, unseen by the knight in the room. “Where is she now?” I asked. “In her War room, My Lady,” he answered, head bowed and eyes as grim as I felt. This wasn’t just a betrayal from anyone, it was a betrayal from her longest standing ally and friend, the man who had been there for what we hadn’t been. He held her council and was one of her main advisors. 

“Very well, let me just get Nathyn to Gilly, then we shall go see her,” I breathed, eyes closed against the knife twisting in my gut. Jorah was the man who arranged for my arrival here, after all. Even if we hadn’t gotten along in the Small Council chambers, he was the only one who knew what I spoke of when I talked about the North. This was… It wasn’t going to be easy, I thought as Gilly took Nathyn without a question. I tried to smile at her as I thanked her, but she shook her head and shooed me away. 

I walked down the halls of the pyramid with Ser Barristan, Unsullied following us like they have been since Daenerys put them as my guard. I looked up at the older man beside me, “Why would he…” I trailed off, furrowing my brow again. “I’m not sure, My Lady. It saddens me, as well,” he answered softly. I shook my head, “He loves her. It’s clear to anyone who has eyes. This just… Doesn’t make sense,” I frowned. “Mayhap he doesn’t truly, he just puts on a face so no one realizes,” Barristan pondered. I shook my head, “No. the way he looks at her is one I’ve seen many times, when my own husband looks at me. Or the way men looked at Eliyona. He truly loves her.”

We arrived at the War Room, and Jorah was there with Daenerys alone. They looked over the map of Essos and Westeros, Jorah pointing at something. 

“Ser Jorah, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the Queen,” Barristan announced, eyes hardening. I didn’t pay any attention to Jorah’s confusion and arguments as I strode forward to Daenerys. “Your Grace, I..” I trailed off at the look in her eyes. “Here,” I murmured, looking away from her eyes as I all but threw the scroll at her. She unfurled it, her anger giving way to confusion, then betrayal. “How do I know this was not forged?” She asked in a hard tone. I internally flinched, but took no offence. Barristan answered for me, “Lady Raenara called me to her study and opened it after I arrived. It was given to her in the city, by one of Varys’s little birds.”

She looked at us both searchingly, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. I could see she wanted this to desperately not be true, and I understood. I looked over at Jorah, who was being held back by Barristan and Grey Worm. 

“Do you know what this is, Ser Jorah?” Daenerys demanded. He gave me a long, hard look as he answered, “No, Your Grace.” I felt my lungs deflate at his answer. I wondered what would have happened if he had warning of what was about to happen. 

“It is a pardon, signed by Robert Baratheon the year we met,” Daenerys informed him. “Why would the Usurper pardon you?” Her voice was hard, and I watched her eyes glaze over. I was sure everyone in the room knew the answer Jorah was struggling with. 

“Who do you think sent that letter? This is the work of Tywin Lannister, he wants to divide us, if we’re fighting each other we’re not fighting him,” Jorah finally spoke. “This was signed the year we met, tell me Lady Raenara, when did Lord Tywin become the false Kings Hand?” She asked me. My heart skipped a beat, but my voice remained steady, “Lord Tywin took his position as Hand but less than a year ago, Your Grace. After the Battle of Blackwater,” I answered. She turned back to Jorah, “Bring him to the dungeons while I think on what to do,” Daenerys ordered. I watched Jorah struggle, “Khaleesi, please,” he begged. She ignored him, turning to Barristan. “You stay,” she told him, eyes flashing. He nodded, and left Grey Worm and one of my own guards to bring Jorah down. 

“How long ago did you get this?” Daenerys demanded of me. “Only a few hours ago, Your Grace,” I answered calmly. “What did Ser Barristan mean by one of Varys’s birds?” She asked. “I had just given a woman coin to feed herself and her son, and her son passed it to me openly. I tucked it away until I retreated to my study when we returned, and called Ser Barristan straight away. That is when I opened it, and we came here,” I responded gently. “Thank you, Lady Raenara, You May go,” she nodded. I took the dismissal desperately, picking up my skirts and forcing myself to walk instead of run. 

When I reached the end of the hall, I finally let out a breath. I felt guilt claw it’s way up my throat, and I ran to the nearest water closet. I heaved into the chamber pot, but nothing came of it. I shakily pulled away from it, my heart racing. This wasn’t truly my own fault, I had just delivered the message, I told myself repeatedly. But I couldn’t shake the feeling I had just sentenced a man to death. A man who had saved me from my own, no less. 

I walked to my chambers feeling distant from myself. My mind raced as I thought of why Tywin sent that letter to me. I looked at one of my guards, who stared back without question. “Have someone go tell my handmaiden I shan’t be returning for a little while,” I told them in an unsteady tone. He nodded and went to do ask as told of him. I took a breath and continued on my way. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I went. My feet led me towards the front entrance of the palace, and I frowned. 

“Another outing, Raenara?” Daenerys asked behind me. I struggled to not jump, and turned to her. “Just going for some air, Your Grace. It is such a warm evening,” I responded quietly. She nodded, looking distracted. “Have you met my dragons yet?” She asked, though we both knew the answer. I shook my head, “I have not, Your Grace.”

She looked at me with consideration on her face, then forced a smile. “I find that when I am feeling unsure of things, visiting them helps. I was just on my way to see them, would you care to join me?” She asked. “I would be honoured, Your Grace,” I held back a grin. “Please, we are family, I think you can call me Daenerys,” she responded, looping her arm through my own. I blinked at her, no words coming to mind. She accepted the silence, though, leading me outside of the Keep. I hesitated when we reached the mouth of a cave, my dreams coming back full force. 

“They’re in here?” I asked, my voice giving away my nervousness. “Yes, we had an … Incident… With Drogon, and though we can’t find him, we decided it was best to keep the other two close,” she answered. 

_He fucked up, but we were locked away_ , I thought with a grimace. It was surely a coincidence, I told myself. 

The guards outside the cave pushed a giant stone away from the entrance, and Daenerys only let two of them in with us, both carrying torches. I hesitated when we reached the end of the stairs, but Daenerys pulled me ahead gently. “I think the two of us are the safest down here,” she told me in muted amusement. I allowed a smirk to appear on my face, “I truly think that as well,” I allowed myself to say. 

It still didn’t calm the anxiety I felt, being in a cave with two chained dragons. 

I watched guilt flash over Daenerys’s face momentarily as the two guards with us lit the torches in the cave, before I looked around. The chains were there, though both strained as the dragons attached to them were hiding. I disentangled my arm from Daenerys’s and stepped forward, looking around for the giant beasts. She stepped back and I watched as she smiled, and refused to let my panic seize me as I ventured forward, following on the chains intently. When I neared the end, I looked up and met golden eyes blinking at me. I sensed amusement behind them, and my pulse picked up again. 

“That’s Rhaegal,” Daenerys introduced us. I mocked a curtesy at him, “Very nice to make your acquaintance,” I smirked in my amusement. The dragon blew a cloud of smoke in response. “Over there is Viserion,” Daenerys pointed across the room. I turned and looked around for the second one. He was slightly larger than the one I just met, and his gold and cream coloured scales glowing beautifully in the firelight. I walked over slowly, and he bent his head to stare at me in interest, where his brother had had amusement. I stopped in front of him, and the most curious thing happened as I stared at him. 

I could see myself through his eyes. I let out a gasp as I blinked, the motion slow and lazy. His eyes revealed myself as an almost ethereal being, such as himself. My hair flowed freely to my hips now, glowing in the dim light almost as an aura, my eyes looking as cloudy as Aemon’s had been in that moment. 

Then I was abruptly returned to my own self, and I let out a breath. “Hullo, friend,” I smiled softly. I raised my hand to his snout hesitantly. He allowed me to the touch, and I almost flinched in pain at the warmth of him. It only lasted a second though, and I looked over at Daenerys, “I think this one likes me,” I giggled at her. The relief on her face gave way to pride as she beamed at me. “I rather thought it would be Rhaegal that took to you. But this makes sense. Viserion is the gentlest of my children,” she explained. I turned back to Viserion, “Yes, I think we’ll get on quiet well,” I smiled. 

Finally, I returned to Daenerys’s side, “Have you ridden one of them yet?” I asked her curiously. She shook her head, “No. one day, though,” she responded wistfully. I nodded distractedly, “Have you figured out what troubles you yet?” I asked hesitantly, looking at her. “Yes, I believe I have,” she admitted in a quiet voice. 

“Then I dare say we should return to the Keep now,” I suggested, taking her arm again. She allowed me that, and we walked back to the pyramid to deliver Ser Jorah his fate.


	17. Chapter 17

Grief filled the Keep like a thick fog in the days following Jorah’s banishment. Daenerys took to her War Room much of the time. I held my son as Ser Barristan came into my study again. “I just wish I knew how to help,” I admitted with a great exhale. The knight shook his head, “There is little we can do to help her pain, Lady Raenara. The betrayal of Ser Jorah was great,” he told me in a heavy voice. I placed my son on my lap, pondering his words. “Has she confided what she wishes to do now?” I asked gently, Nathyn tugging some of my hair in amusement. “No, My Lady. Though, without Ser Jorah’s Council, I fear she’ll want to march on Westeros soon,” he admitted. “We barely kept her from doing so before you came,” he intimated quietly. 

I sighed, “To do so now, before we have the proper resources, would be a suicide mission. Surely she must see that we need more alliances.” I frowned. “Which is what we explained to her, My Lady,” he informed me, and when I turned to him his eyes were on my son. “Do you wish to hold him?” I asked with amusement. He blinked at me, “I have no experience holding children, as I had none of my own,” he shook his head. I shrugged, “Very well then. Mayhap we should go see if she would like company,” I suggested, standing and placing Nathyn on my hip. I ran my hands through his hair while we walked. 

“My father and grandfather had dark hair,” I started. “It relieved my great grandmother greatly, for it gave the North no reason to turn to them. My grandfather was greatly worried when I was born, he was the one who went to Lord Stark for help. My Lord has just returned with his own bastard few months prior, see, so my grandfather hoped it would make him more sympathetic.” I wasn’t sure the knight wanted to hear this, but I felt like explaining it to him. “He believed my hair turned the colour it did because I was a girl, the first one in four generations of our branch.”

“Why do you think your son has your hair?” Barristan asked, incredibly curious. I shrugged, playing with one of Nathyn’s curly locks. “I’m not sure,” I admitted, frowning. 

“The rest of him is Jon, though, save his eyes,” I felt a pang as I remembered that. Barristan hummed acknowledgment, then we arrived at the War Room. Daenerys looked up from her map, looking at me in earnest. “Raenara, do you think the North would receive us?” She asked. 

“To be perfectly candid, Daenerys, no. Not with the Bolton’s and Stannis already tearing them apart with war so soon after they returned from Robb’s,” I told her steadily, meeting her gaze. “I fear if we go to the demanding their allegiance so we can force them to fight our war so quickly, they’ll grow tired and revolt against every noble in the land, causing more grief than necessary.”

She stared at the map, and her eyes told me she had wandered off again. I sat across from her, studying her. Bags sat under her eyes, and she looked paler than normal. I reached across and took her hand in mine, “We will March when we can, but for now we must exercise patience,” I told her gently. She gave me a tired look, “I’m tired of waiting. Westeros is mine, by rights. Why should I wait when we have enough men and ships to march Kings Landing now?” She demanded. I shook my head, “We have no alliances, Dany. The small folk and nobles alike will look at us as invaders taking advantage of their miseries,” I explained softly. 

“We would be seen as saviours to them. Once I sit on the Iron Throne, I’ll see that they’re taken care of,” she argued. I repressed the urge to rub my temples, and gave her a hard look. “As one of the small folk who lived through the War of Five Kings, I can say that wouldn’t be the case. How long will it take to secure your seat in Kings Landing? The people will not want to wait for that. You must also get your affairs _here_ in order, lest you wish for everything you worked for to be all for naught,” I was dangerously close to sounding like I was chastising a child, but Daenerys didn’t snap back. She simply looked at me searchingly, the her body slumped in defeat. Her hair fell over her shoulders, and she moved it to look at the map once more. 

“How will we gather alliances if we are not in Westeros then?” She asked through clenched teeth. “The same way the Nights Watch gathers men for the Wall, we write to them,” I suggested. I couldn’t say exactly when I gained Daenerys’s confidence, but she heeded my words thoughtfully. I looked at Barristan as she stood straight and turned to grab wine, and his look was one of approval. I gave a hopeful smile, and looked at Daenerys again. “We need only wait until we are sure enough of the Northern Lords will follow us, Dany,” I reassured her gently. 

I heard her breath hitch, and I worried about overstepping. But she nodded hesitantly, “Bring me one of the literate servants,” she told Grey Worm. He nodded to one of the guards at the door, and the young man rushed off. Daenerys sat down beside me, and Nathyn reached for her. “May I?” She asked nervously. I held back amusement at her hesitance, and held him up for her. She took him into her lap and gave a delighted squeal, reaching for her hair with slobbery fists. I smirked as she pulled it behind her with a grimace, and he stuck the fist in his mouth happily. “I hear he is a happy child, and barely cries,” Daenerys smiled. I nodded, watching him pull the hand out of his mouth, dribbling drool all over her. I laughed and pulled him away as she scrunched her nose. “Sorry ‘bout that,” I murmured as I held him to my chest. She shook her head as she wiped herself, “That’s alright. He can’t help it.”

A boy who looked about ten and three came in, just then, looking terrified. Daenerys looked up at him, and we set to work. 

…………………

_Jon POV_

He received the letter the same time as everyone else, and it hit him like a sword to a shield. “Seven Hells, Raenara,” Jon swore under his breath as he read it again. 

_Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regnant of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons hereby names Nathyn of houses Stark and Targaryen, son of Lady Raenara Targaryen and Jon Snow, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. By royal decree, Lady Raenara Of House Targaryen, will stand as regent of the North until Lord Nathyn reaches of age. Lords and Ladies of the North will accept this as the will of both the Old Gods of the North and the Faith of the Seven. The Crown expects a timely response pledging their allegiances to their new Lord and Lady Regent to be sent to Meereen._

Jon blew out air roughly, staring at the rest of the letter without reading it.. Of course, their Realm wide letter meant now Jon had many letters from every Kingdom for him, demanding to know what the hells was going on. Some of the responses he received were surprising, for they were asking if Nathyn truly was his, and if he agreed with the Dragon Queen. Two of his letters stood out, from Stannis and Tywin Lannister, saying if supported this treasonous act from his former Lady wife, it was his head. 

Jon wondered if Rae had known this would happen, and shook his head. The letter was well executed and carefully worded, they had taken time to prepare it, going as far as to not name Nathyn as either fully Stark or Targaryen. He left his solar and looked around for Olly, for he needed the boy to write his own letter, though this one would only be for the North. 

Olly wrote the letter, and he cursed Rae, yet again, for putting him in this position.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Barristan and Raenara have a little chat.

I rubbed my temples, trying to dissuade the migraine coming on. “We should have never put that it was the _will of the Gods,_ ” I scrunched my nose. Dany looked to be fighting a smile, “But it is, cousin. The gods have seen it fit to join our House with the Starks through you and Jon, granting the birth of Nathyn. It’s not sacrilegious to bring it to their attention,” she pointed out. I sat forward, resting my forehead on the table and sighing so heavily it sounded like a growl. “I do believe it’s not very Ladylike to do that,” I heard a familiar voice say from the doorway. I lifted my middle finger up towards it, rolling my eyes at the table. “Shut the fuck up, Gared,” I snapped. He just burst out laughing, and I looked up at him. 

“Good morning, Your Grace, Lady Raenara,” he bowed slightly, seeming to remember himself. Daenerys ignored him and stared at me, “Which Lord did you say was the most important for us at the moment?” She asked. I swallowed, “Lord Manderly, Lord of White Harbour. It’s the main port in the North, the only one large enough for all the ships,” I answered in a tired voice. “Do you remember hearing about his allegiances while in Winterfell?” She asked. I closed my eyes and thought, but I couldn’t remember. I shook my head, “No. neither Theon nor Ramsay’s men mentioned Lord Manderly,” I finally admitted. 

“House Manderly’s allegiances have always lied with the Starks, Your Grace. And after Ramsay killed Lord Manderly’s cousin for Hornwood, there will be no love lost if and when they declare their allegiance to you,” Gared responded, looking at me. “Did Jon Snow not tell you the goings on of the kingdom you just claimed in your sons name?” He asked with vague amusement. I shook my head, “Jon wasn’t taught much of the politics of the North himself. We only knew in as much as we heard around the Keep.” I admitted, flushing slightly. “We can fix that now, if you’d like,” he offered cautiously. I looked toward Dany, and she gave a subtle nod. 

I exhaled, “Very well then.” I told Gared. He wasted no time in it, going straight into the Houses most likely to join our cause, and those that are some of Roose’s most loyal supporters. The lesson went well into the day, and sometime during it, Ser Barristan came through and helped Gared. I drank my coffee and listened in rapt interest, realizing there was much that Jon and I hadn’t heard during our lives. The two men combined gave me more information than I knew what to do with, and somewhat confused me. “So, wait a moment,” I interrupted to Gared amusement. I had been doing that a lot. “The former Lord Umber was one of Robb’s greatest allies, why is the new one one of Ramsay’s?” I demanded, feeling indignant on my late goodbrothers behalf. 

“Because while a majority of men follow their father’s allegiances, some don’t, even if the new allegiance is with a madman,” Gared states bluntly. I hummed, taking a sip of my disgusting coffee. Gared returned to his lesson as if I hadn’t spoke then, and I leaned back, placing my feet on the table. Dany cleared her throat and I quickly sat straight again, catching Gared snicker quietly. I ignored him as Ser Barristan was explaining history of another House Gared couldn’t. 

By the end of it, I was fairly certain I knew the entire history of the North. I was confident that Daenerys and I had years of lessons crammed into an entire day. “Bring me some parchment and a quill,” I requested from Gared. When he brought it back, Daenerys looked at me in curiosity. “What are you doing?” She asked in a neutral tone. “Writing to Lord Manderly to extend an offer. If he allows us to port in White Harbour, we will grant him the opportunity to exact justice for Lady Hornwood,” I told them, not looking up. Nobody responded, and the only sound heard was the scratching of pen to parchment. 

“Your Grace, Lady Raenara” someone appeared in the doorway, looking at us both. “Yes?” Daenerys asked, and I could see her masking irritation. “There’s a … Few ravens… That came throughout the day.” The young woman looked at someone in the hallway, and a young man came around the corner, clutching no less than a dozen letters. Barristan walked over and grabbed them, looking at the seals. “They’re almost all from the North,” he said, sounding nervous, before setting them all before me. I looked at the seals, vaguely recognizing them from Gared and Barristan’s descriptions. I searched them, finally seeing the seal of White Harbour. I broke it hastily, my eyes skimming the contents. 

I let out a sigh of relief, my body sagging. “We have The Manderly’s,” I breathed. Dany was reading another letter, “This one’s from … House Mormont…” I looked at her sympathetically as she read it. “We have their allegiance, as well,” she looked at me. I smiled reassuringly, then reached for another. It was from Jon, I exhaled quietly, and read it. 

Jon was furious, but said he wrote the North to help secure mine and Nathyn’s claim. I held hope as I looked at Dany, “I think we can go North after everything is in order here,” I whispered hopefully. 

….……….…

I sat in the cave in front of Viserion, Rhaegal was off in his half of the cave doing whatever it was Dragons did. Viserion met my eyes steadily, and I felt his curiosity as if it were my own. “I can go home soon,” I finally said, feeling… Rather silly… Talking to the Dragon. But I knew I had his attention. “It hasn’t been very long since I left, only a few months, but before this I’ve never left home, see,” I rambled, running a hand through my loose hair. “When I was little, my father and I travelled for his work, sometimes, but never far and never for long. As I grew older, my mother stopped letting me go. And then she killed him, so I never left again,” I told him bitterly. 

It wasn’t the first time I’ve done this. In the weeks since Daenerys first brought me here, I actually came down here frequently. I would sit here, talk to Viserion, then Id give them dinner and leave. I figured it was safe, as I left my guards up above with strict orders to let no one bother me, and dragons couldn’t speak. Even as I explored the connection between Viserion and I, he thought without words. I figured out the words I heard in my dreams before were my own mind translating feelings. 

“I’m scared, though. What if we go to the North and it’s all a giant set up to kill us?” I whispered to him. He cocked his head slightly, and I sighed. “I honestly don’t know,” I admitted softly. “I guess I’m also scared to see Jon. I miss him, don’t get me wrong,” I said quickly, even though I knew the creature before me didn’t care if I missed him, nor did he know who I spoke of, but I felt it necessary to say. “I’m also worried for Nathyn. Barristan keeps looking at him weirdly, and I can’t figure it out for the life of me.”

I could feel him growing impatient for food, and I chuckled. “Fine, I guess that’s my queue,” I shook my head. When I reach the top of the cave, the Unsullied lead the sheep inside. I looked at the cave hopelessly, and they shut the door. I looked down at my skirts, dirty from ash, dirt, and dried blood. I grimaced as I returned to the palace, where Ser Barristan waited by the front entrance. I startled, but quickly regained my composure. “Yes, Ser Barristan?” I ask cautiously. 

“Have you seen the Meereenese gardens at night, My Lady?” He asked pleasantly enough. I shook my head, “Not yet, Ser. I try to stay inside at night as much as I can, for the threats that lay outside the Keep are great,” I lied. He nodded, “Of course, Lady Raenara. That’s quite understandable. I realize I am an old man, but my fighting days are far from over, would you care to join me?” He asked, extending his arm. I carefully took it, “I would be honoured, Ser,” I nodded carefully. 

My guard joined us as well, but I told them to stay behind us. I looked up at Barristan with interest, “Is there a meaning for all this?” I asked bluntly. “Yes, My Lady.” He admitted softly. I looked around the gardens, “A shame. It truly is beautiful here,” I sighed. “But, if there is something you must say, away from my cousin and those who might say something to her, please tell me,” I told him just as softly. It almost felt wrong to speak above a certain level here. 

“Did you know I used to be one of Prince Rhaegar’s personal guards? He entrusted his safety with me so much, in fact, he would bring me to Flea Bottom, where he posed as a singer then gave the coin he earned to a orphanages and the like,” he started. I eyed him warily, “I did not know my cousin was such a charitable man,” I responded heavily. “He was. Which is why it grieved me so when I found out about him and Lyanna Stark,” he frowned. “Yes, can you imagine how much better the world would be if he hadn’t pursued the girl?” I asked as I looked around. 

“I knew him when he was but a child, as well, being part of the Kingsguard for many years prior to his birth.” He continued, ignoring my question. “Have you heard how Ned Stark introduces his bastard, your former husband?” He asked me, looking in my eyes. I stopped, wondering what he was getting at. “He returned from Robert’s Rebellion with Jon in his arms,” I answered. “Yes. He never said who Jon’s mother was, not even to his Lady wife, I hear,” Barristan nodded, looking out at the garden wistfully. I resumed walking with him, “Lady Stark was heartbroken, I imagine she never asked who his mother was.” I thought of how I would feel in her position, then reconsidered. 

“Is there a reason you’re telling me all of this?” I asked warily. 

“Yes, My Lady,” Barristan grimaced. “I felt you should know that your son looks almost exactly like Prince Rhaegar did as a babe, save his silverberry eyes.”

I stared at him incredulously a moment, “Surely you aren’t saying what I think you’re saying, Ser,” I exhaled in a hushed tone. “It depends on what you think I’m saying,” the knight raised a brow. “I think you’re saying my husband is Rhaegar and Lyanna’s child, but you _Cannot_ be saying that, for think of what the realm would do if they learned of such a thing,” I warned him. “Yes, it would be a devastating thing for our Queen to learn as well,” he added for me. I nodded, “Yes. Queen Daenerys would be quite upset that there is someone to contest her claim to Throne. Which is why such a thing will never be suggested again,” I told him in a hard tone. 

“Of course not, My Lady.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I stray from canon drastically. Also, giant time jump.

I sighed as Gilly brushed my hair, and thought of that night once more. _He looks almost exactly as Prince Rhaegar did as a babe, save his silverberry eyes,_ I remembered, my heart skipping a beat. Surely, it didn't mean anything, right? It couldn't mean anything, because that would just be impossible. Gilly seemed to notice I was troubled, and rubbed my shoulders slightly. "You did tell her to get her affairs here in order," she reminded me with a small smile. I grimaced, "When I said that, I didn't mean to get herself engaged and reopen the Fighting Pits," I muttered. "Marriage is the best way to seal a political deal, is it not?" She asked, genuinely confused. I nodded, "It is, which is why she should wait to wed a Westerosi Lord instead, to secure at least one more Kingdom. The North may be the largest, but help from one more Kingdom wouldn't hurt," I sighed. 

"I see you've managed to start understanding politics, My Lady," a voice rumbled from the door. I warily looked at Ser Barristan in the looking glass, "Yes, Ser Barristan, I have. Living here in Meereen these past months has helped quite a bit with that." I told him in a heavy voice. What was he doing here? "Has it already been months, My Lady?" He asked, genuinely confused. "Yes, Ser Barristan," I sighed. "It has already been 4 moons since we've exiled Ser Jorah, actually. And I came here 2 moons before that. My son is already almost 9 months old," I reminded him. "Time does pass quickly," he muttered. I turned and looked him in the eye, "Is there something my cousin needs?" I asked warily. He shook his head, "No, My Lady. She and the rest of your party are waiting out in the litters already. I'm just here to escort you when your 're done," he nodded. I turned back to the mirror and watched as Gilly quickly made the braided bun she so loved doing with my hair, then artfully placed a couple flowers inside. 

After that, I stood, and Ser Barristan offered his arm. I took it tiredly, and looked up at him. "Are you excited for the fights, My Lady?" Barristan asked in a tight voice. I shook my head, "I have a feeling they will be quite.... Interesting." I offered. He nodded, "Hopefully the Sons of the Harpy will be aquiesced with Her Grace in her decision to reopen the Pits," he stated. I shudded as I remembered the Harpies had nearly killed the man beside a few weeks ago, luring him and Grey Worm into an ally and ambushing them and the few men they had. I felt a rush of appreciation for the Second Sons that saved them last minute, for as much as Barristan worried me, I surely didn't want the man _dead._

We arrived at the litters outside the Keep, and I sat in one with Daenerys and her betrothed. I grimaced at the sight of him, and Dany's eyes glinted in amusement like they typically did whenever I interacted with Hizdahr Zo Loraq. "You look very nice today, Lady Raenara," he smiled nervously. I hummed in acknowledgment then turned to stare out the window. "Gilly is learning fast," Daenerys offered as well. "Yes, I think she's been asking Missendei for help. She is such a sweet girl." I responded distractedly. 

Just because Daenerys wanted to marry the man, didn't mean I had to like him. Dany could try as she might, but nothing changed my mind about the pompous, whiney arse. 

The city passed by languidly as we made our way through it to go watch the first rounds of the Slave Fights. Oh, the men pretended they weren't slaves, but I knew better. I blew air out of my nose none too gently as I listened to Daenerys pretend to be interested in the Ghiscari's conversation. It seems they were both far too willing to forget Dany had almost fed the man to Viserion and Rhaegal. I remembered the scene with amusement, and Viserion's feelings on the entire event brought me to the event we were currently enduring. 

"Allow me to help you, My Love," Hizdahr said in an all too sweet voice as he helped Daenerys down from our litter. I rolled my eyes as I allowed Daario Naharis to help me down, and the sellsword and I exchanged smirks behind their backs. "I must say, he doesn't seem her type," he whispered conspiringly in my ear. I let out a snort, "Indeed," I shook my head, eying the man in front of us warily. Barristan gave us a sidelong glance, and I looked down at my feet. The Queens escort was carefully placed, with Grey Worm, Missendei, Daenerys and Hizdahr in front, Barristan, Daario and myself behind them, and Second Sons and Unsullied surrounding us. Nathyn and Gilly were back at the palace, as I vehemently rejected any ideas of my son attending such a thing. Hazdahr had informed us there would many children at the Fights, but I shut down any notions of Nathyn being one of them. 

We came to a dingy little bench, and Daenerys motioned for me to sit at her right. I repressed a smirk at Hazahr's slight, and sat. I watched as the fighters came out, and my heart sank. They were all far too underfed, and dressed in little more than rags. I grimaced as I met Daenery's eye, and she shook her head, eyes wary. I watched as the man I assumed was their slave driver startled at the sight of us, and ran to straighten the men. He stood back and they recited, voices far too disused for my like, "We fight and die for you, O Glorious Queen!" 

Bile raised in my throat as they fighting began, men falling like flies almost instantly. Daenerys looked pale as I looked voer, and I held my hand palm up for her. She shot my grateful look, and gripped it tightly. I pressed a hand to my mouth as a man stabbed another in the throat right before us, fighting the vomit swirling in my stomach at the sight. Daenerys stood suddenly, and I stood with her to leave. 

"Your Grace, it is tradition for the Queen to stay until the victor emerges," Hizdahr whispered quickly, moving to reach for Daenerys. I saw Daario, Barristan, and Grey Woirm all reach for their weapons at the motion. I held up a hand as Daenerys leaned slightly and hissed, "I've sacrificed more than enough for your traditions." She walked past him and I dropped her hand. looking around nervously. 

That was when it happened. 

There was a commotion near the gates as a vaguely familiar figure came out, and I grabbed her hand again. "Daenerys," I murmured. She turned and gave me an exhasperated look, but I nodded towards the man now dropping almost every slave in the pit. She turned and stood in silence, and I could see the wheel sin her head turning as she squeezed my hand, watching the man. What in the Seven Hells is he doing? I thought with a shake of my head. When it was almost over, the man came forward, holding another man in his arms, forcing the other to kneel with him. He removed his helmet and I stared at Jorah Mormont in tired pity. 

"Get him out of my sight," Daenerys ordered in a quiet voice, and I wondered if others heard the tremble. 

"Wait, Khaleesi, please, I just need a moment of your time. I brought you a gift!" He called out as the guards started to pull him away. I loooked at the man still kneeling in the dirt, and wondered what sort of gift this was. 

"It's true!" A voice called from where the fighters came from. I startled as I looked at a dirty and desperate dwarf. "He has," the man continued as he stood before us. "And who are you?" Daenerys demanded, her voice sounding awfully tired. "I am the gift. My friend and I," he motioned to the man on the ground, "Have come a long way to see you, Your Grace. My name is Tyrion Lannister, and this is Oberyn Martell." He helped the man up and I frowned as I realized the other man looked.... Out of sorts in a way the other slaves were not. 

Certainly not types of men I had envisioned the Dwarf of Casterly Rock and the Red Viper to be, surely. 

.........................

I hadn't paid any attention to what Daenerys had done with Jorah, because my mind was focused on the Martell in our midst. His demeaner was that of a drugged man, I was sure. I had watched far too many girls in Winterfell do similiar things to themselves to endure the Greyjoys then the Boltons. It was almost like a drunken state, but with slight differences. It was a wonder the man had survived the fights at all, really, I thought to myself as I watched him rely on Daario and Greyworm far too much for support to the litter. When they finally got him settled, Daenerys and I sat across from him and Tyrion. 

"What did they do to him?" I demanded in an upset tone. "He was... A bit too much trouble, but they didn't want to give up the Prince of Dorne, so they ... Made sure he settled down." Tyrion grimaced. "What did they give him?" Daenerys asked, clearly troubled by the thought. "Milk of the Poppy, Essence of Nightshade, I'm truly not sure. Unfortunately, the only man I know to ask is Oberyn himself," Tyrion chuckled darkly. 

"How did this happen?" I asked softly, still confused by the whole situation. 

"After Joffrey was killed, poisoned at his own wedding, Oberyn and I found ourselves in the Black Cells for treason. Cersei believes I gave Joffrey the poison, and Oberyn supplied it me. Not an unworthy theory, truthfully. I think if we really had wanted to do it, that would be how. But, alas, we were not the ones to do it." Tyrion explained. 

"We're just lucky Jaime loves his little brother more than his twin," Oberyn laughed in a slurred voice. "You just... Sleep, now," I told him in an uncomfortable tone. "No," he argued, trying to sit straight. "I just need... Need... Ugh," he growled, snapping his fingers as he thought of the word. I smirked as him despite myself, and looked over at Daenerys. "Sleep, I think the word is," I supplied. "No, no, no, no, no," Oberyn repeated, shaking his head. "How in the Seven Hells did this man fight?" I demanded. 

"I am Oberyn Martell!" The man announced, throwing his arms out and almost hitting Tyrion. "So we've gathered," Daenerys responded dryly. Tyrion patted his companions hand softly. Tyrion painted us a none too pretty picture of how Jaime Lannister let them out of the Black Cells the night before Oberyn's trial by combat, Varys had escorted them to Pentos, and on the Demon Road, Jorah had went to abduct Tyrion. Oberyn, apparently, was not ready to let go of his 'little friend' and went with Mormont willingly. Along the way, they ran into the Slavers who brought them to the Pit. I was sure there was more, but I grew tired of the story and stopped paying attention. 

"Oh, look, we've made it," I interrupted Tyrion as I saw the palace approaching. Daenerys gave me a look of amusement as I quickly threw open the door as soon as we were stopped. I stepped down onto the street, ignoring the men who came to help me down. "You lot would be more useful helping the Prince in there," I rolled my eyes at their disapproval. "I don't need your bloody help!" the man inside roared as he almost fell face first trying to prove it. I caught his arm and laughed as he stood straight. "See? I did it," he nodded confidently. I rolled my eyes and sighed, he reminded me of Jon when he got drunk at Robert's arrival. 

"I must say, they might have just overloaded him with wine," Tyrion admitted as he stepped down to join us. I looked at Oberyn, "Maybe," I muttered. The man was slowly gaining himself back, as he insisted on staggering into the pyramid himself. I hooked my arm in Daenerys's, "I have a feeling life just a little bit more interesting," I admitted with a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I really liked Oberyn as a character, and was super sad he died in his first season. So... Here you go. Don't hate me. Please. I really do have plans for this whole divergence. Also, Barristan is definitely needed alive for where my game is going.


	20. Chapter 20

I knelt on the ground, pressing a cool cloth to Oberyn's forehead. I almost jumped out of my skin when he opened his eyes and looked up at me. We stared at eacho other a moment, then I slowly put the cloth down. "Are you truly awake this time?" I asked quietly, pressing the back of hand to his cheek. "When I remembered I was in Meereen, I thought I'd awake to an old Ghascari healing woman, instead I find myself at the mercy of Winters beautiful Dragon," he murmured in a sleepy voice. I laughed softly despite myself, "You had us worried for a while, Lord Prince." I admitted, wiping some sweat from his brow. "It is not my time to die, Lady Princess, you needn't worry yourself," he smirked. "It's just Lady Raenara, Prince Oberyn. And I'm afraid it was very near your time more than once. The Stranger was knocking for you so loud the entire palace heard," I smiled back. 

"How lucky I feel to have yoou by my side to chase Him away," Oberyn remarked. "But of course, I told your brother that we'd keep you alive and well. I'd rather not know what could happen if he thinks I went back on it," I shook my head. "You wrote to Doran?" He asked hoarsely. I nodded, "He is quite the correspondant." I smiled as I stood. I felt awkward in my own skin, Dany had given me one of her own dresses for these visits. _Oberyn is a very passionate man, I hear, and I already have a betrothed,_ Daenerys's voice rang through my head and I repressed a shudder, instead turning and pouring some water. I looked down quickly, my stomach all but bared in this cooled room. I poured myself wine and took a giant gulp, the alcohol numbing my headache and nerves. I turned my head and saw Oberyn staring at me oddly. "I think I need help to sit," he admitted quietly, and I was reminded of myself whenever I apologized to Jon. Biting back my amusement, I placed the glasses down and went to reach for his hand. 

I almost fell when the man used my arm to tug himself up. I yelped in surprise, and he chuckled. "I apologize, My Lady." I shook my head, waving it off before going for the water glass again. "I think I'd prefer wine, if that's alright with you, Lady Raenara." Oberyn called. I felt a pang in my gut as I poured it. I walked over and passed him his glass, then sat on the chair beside his bed and took a sip of my drink. 

"Tell me, did Tyrion tell you two that a beautiful woman was all it took to convince me to bend the knee?" he asked in amusement. I kept the shock off of my face, and met his gaze levelly. "No. He did not. But, how hard do you think it would be on your family if you had succumbed to your condition, even despite our best efforts?" I asked calmly, watching his face carefully. 

"Then I guess it is a good thing I did not, for I have venegence to fulfill with the Lannisters in King's Landing," Oberyn murmured thoughtfully. I finished my wine and stood. "A very good thing indeed, for if you maintain your strength, we might just bring you with us when we march on the capital," I offered. 

Oberyn chuckled, despite the fact I basically just threatened his life. "At the mercy of Winters Dragon indeed," he repeated in amusement. I walked to the door, then hesitated and turned back, "Now that your fever is broken, Lord Prince, are you still cold?" I asked innocently enough. He nodded, "You know you're supposed to sweat out a fever, not freeze it, yes?" He asked with a twinkle of his eye. I quickly glanced at the wall opposite of him, and the fire in the hearth went from embers to roaring pleasantly. "I'll have the servants bring you some bone broth," I offered before leaving the room.

I walked down the hallway with Barristan, ordering my guard to stand well enough away. "He'll see it if he meets Nathyn, won't he?" I asked quietly. Barristan nodded solemnly, "And he won't keep quiet about it, either. He'll out you, and Jon, in a moment," he warned me. I shook my head, "We can't have that. The throne is Daenerys's. Jon wouldn't want it, if what you're suspecting is even remotely true." I let out a quiet, tired sigh. "We'll just have to ensure that Oberyn never meets my son then. At least... Not until we figure this mess out." 

We continued the walk the Small Council chambers in silence, but when we neared, Barristan spoke again. "You must really love the boy, to play this game for him," he murmured. I looked up at him and blinked, "Jon is my best friend. I'd do anything for him," I whispered. He gave me a sympathetic look, and opened the door.

"How did it go?" Tyrion asked eagerly. "He played right into it," I grinned, sitting down and pouring myself some wine. "You still have a headache?" Dany asked in concern. I shrugged, "Just a little bit," I lied. Truth was, my migraine was still as strong as that first day, when I tried to stay in control of Viserion for the better part of an hour. But, the dragon fought, and the fact that he focuses on dozens of things at once didn't help matters. It almost tore me apart, and I was pulled out by a terrible pressure behind my eyes. I was bedridden for two days after that. Daenerys frowned, and I looked away. We figured out wine muted the pain, and I had been drinking it by the gallon almost. 

"How long do you think until Oberyn will write to Doran?" Daenerys asked Tyrion, and I noticed their was a gleam of impatience in her eyes. "I imagine he's demanding to so now, after our... Conversation," I mused, fiddling with the stem of my wine glass. "And what did you say to him?" Tyrion asked hesitantly. "Oh, not much truly. Just... That it would be hard on his brother if he succumbed to his illness," I sighed wistfully, taking a sip. "A hardly veiled threat if I ever heard one," Tyrion shook his head. "There was no veil, Lord Lannister. Which was our goal, of course. We need him to write Doran as soon as possible." Daenerys smiled approvingly at me. I smiled prettily back, and looked around. "I figured it would speed things up. He does seem awfully set on exacting revenge upon your father and his beast," I told Tyrion. The man gave a dark look, "I'm afraid my father is out of the picture, so he'll have to make do with just the Mountain."

"All the better for us. It's not as if we have any use for the man," Daenerys pointed out. "And with Dorne in the fold, we can march in on King's Landing that much sooner. Have you decided how many men you'll need in the North?" she asked me. I shook my head, "I'm not practised in the art of war, cousin. Between what I can remember from Robb's war, though, I can safely give a rough estimate of six thousand, since about half his twelve thousand went with the Boltons, though Lord Manderly says he has forty six ships in his fleet."

"Not nearly enough to get all your men South, unless you wish to risk the Twins again," Tyrion pointed out. "Oh, I have plans for the House Frey. They won't be a problem when I bring my men South," I informed Tyrion with a smirk. "And pray tell, what would thsoe plans be?" He asked in amusement. I pointed to the Twins on the map, "Lord Manderly will take a sizable amount of men from White Harbour, around the Fingers, to the Saltpans," I pointed to a small part of the map, "While Barristan and I take the footmen through the Neck. Once we reach the Twins, Manderly will attack from one side, and Barristan will lead from the other. All the while, I take Viserion to ... Aid where we can," I explained simply. "A plan that will take months to enact," Tyrion noted. "Which is why Ser Barristan and I will leave earlier than the rest of you."

"And why we need Oberyn to help us determine what Dorne will do. As soon as we find out, Raenara will leave almost immediately. Once she and the Northern bannerman pass the Twins, you and I will take men and sail to either Dragonstone, and if we do have Dorne, Daario will take the Second Sons to Sunspear." Daenerys finished explaining. 

"And then have the three forces take on King's Landing at once," Tyrion caught on. "We still need to work out the fine details, but essentially that is the plan," Barristan nodded, looking at the map with us. 

"You plan this war as if certain Dorne will join you," a voice observed from the door. I turned and met Oberyn's eyes steadily, "Well I'm can't imagine you allying yourselves with the Lannisters again," I challenged. He gave a chuckle, then sat down beside me, "Confident. I like it." He winked at me. I rolled my eyes and took a sip of wine instead of responding. 

"I will have to speak to my brother about this. He is, after all, reigning Prince of Dorne," Oberyn reminded us. "I can send Varys to speak to Prince Doran when I see him next," Tyrion suggested. I gave Dany a wary look, "That... Could work," I hesitated. 

"Very well, then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I do believe I have to prepare for the Great Games now," Daenerys dismissed us.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everybody reading this for sticking with me through some pretty... Choppy chapters.. But here is one I'm pretty happy with. Hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

When we reached the colosseum, I looked around and felt sick. So many people were here, all cheering to watch men die for entertainment. I could hear them from outside. I shook my head and sighed. "There is nothing like the smell of shit and blood," Oberyn commented nostalgically. I looked up at him, "You spend a lot of your time placing bets on other mens deaths?" I asked with feigned interest. He eyed me in annoyance, "No, My Lady. Though I imagine men loved to bet on my own death," he remarked. I blinked as I fought to show my surprise. "How long ago did you fight?" I asked quietly. "A lifetime ago, My Lady," was all he provided. I frowned and looked forward, once again staring at Daenerys's back. Except, this time, instead of being escorted by a sellsword, I held the arm of one of Dorne's Princes. We stood directly behind Dany, with Tyrion and Missendei behind Hizdahr, creating a triangle of sorts.

Daario, who was just going wherever he pleased at that point, looked at Oberyn. "I don't believe anyone dared bet against the Red Viper, truthfully," he grinned wickedly. I listened in slight amusement as the two men spoke of their times in the Pit, and Oberyn's brief period as a Second Son. Somehow, it just hit me that the man beside me, that my cousin was pushing me toward unapologetically, was old enough to be my father. I repressed a shudder at the thought, and grimaced slightly. "I have confidence you will do well, My Lady, do not worry," Oberyn attempted at reassuring, but I had to bite back some irriation instead. 

"How are you faring of late, Lord Prince?" I blinked up at him. It had only been less than a week since he woke, and while he recovered a lot of his strength quickly, there was still a lot he needed help with. Which is why I held his arm that day, to keep him from staggering or falling when the heat became to much, and we both knew it. "Fine," he grunted, his eyes turning hard. I sighed, feeling frustrated. Apparently, I thought resentfully, ruining other people's moods did _not_ help with mine. 

I didn't get to think on it for long, though, for we had finally entered the arena. It was quite impressive, I noted, the stone benches tiered for 15 rows of seats. My hands clenched to keep from shaking as I saw that every seat was filled, and men and women were cheering excitedly, their blood lust pulsing throughout the vicinity. I heard Oberyn's sharp intake of breath, but my mind pushed it away as I fought from retching all over our shoes. My jaw clenched painfully in a way it hadn't in a very long time. I felt a rough, calloused hand rest on mine, and I blinked up at Oberyn again. "It's a wonder your teeth haven't fallen out from doing that," he murmured in my ear. I attempted to force my jaw to relax and only succeeded in almost biting my tongue off. He pried my fingers off of his arm and I flinched as I realized just _how_ hard I was gripping him. 

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and squeezed slightly. "There will be wine at the dais, My Lady," he reassured me. I noticed white spots at the edge of my vision, and the shouting and cheering from the crowd blurred into white noise. "Breathe, Raenara," I heard in a forceful tone, and I forced myself to breathe in. _In through the nose, hold, out through the mouth, repeat,_ I told myself. I almost tripped getting up onto the dais, but Oberyn quickly caught me just as I stumbled. Daenerys turned back and gave me a worried look, but I shook my head. When we sat in our seats, myself and Oberyn on the right of the 'Royal couple's' seats and Tyrion and Missendei on their left, I grabbed one of the wine glasses proffered and drained it instantly. Ignoring Dany's disapproving look, I held out the empty glass. "It seems as if I'll need another," I rasped dryly. Just as the servant returned with it, I noticed Hizdahr had so kindly joined us. I eyed him warily as he sat.

I heard my escort chuckle in a low rumble. I ignored him, and smiled at the servant who passed me my newest glass of wine. How many does this make today alone? I wondered to myself, guilt racking my entire being. I should be with Nathyn, but he was back with Gilly again. I had to figure everything out, and soon. Keeping Oberyn away from Nathyn meant I had to split my time between them, and Daenerys had the Dornishman around nearly every corner I turned these days. I felt like I was neglecting my son, and that just wouldn't do. I turned and looked over at Barristan, but the knight wouldn't meet my eyes. He was doing that a lot, lately.

I repressed the urge to roll my eyes, instead looking directly forward and noticing there was now a man standing before us down below.

"Free citizens of Meereen," the man started in Meereenese Valyrian. I sighed, thinking of the long hours I had been putting in to learn the rough tongue of my cousin's people. "By the blessing of the Graces, and her majesty the Queen, welcome to the Great Games!"

I fought to flinch at the roar of the crowd, the sound threatening to bring back my nightmare of a migraine. I sighed and took a sip of my wine, listening idly as the man introduced the first men to fight. I gave Hazdahr a sidelong look when he told Dany to clap her hands. "If looks could kill, I'd imagine the man next to us would be dead many times over," Oberyn laughed, shaking his head. I watched Hizadahr startle, then look at Dany as if for help. But my cousin was engaged in her conversation with Daario. I turned to Oberyn, who was still smirking. "Was that really necessary?" I asked, attempting to be reprimanding, but amusement laid thick in my tone. 

"It got you to smile," he pointed out. I blinked in surprise, words that were supposed to come out completely left my mind as I stared at the man before me. Instead, I decided to take a sip of wine and stare out at the men fighting. "Who do you think will win?" I asked in genuine curiosity. "Both men have their advantages and disadvantages, but I truly think the little man will win," Oberyn observed, an impish grin on his face. I hummed and leaned back, listening to Hizdahr and Daario's pissing contest on the other side of me. 

I couldn't help the bubble of laughter when the smaller man's head came off, and Daario's face fell. Daenerys gave me an incredulous look, and I flushed, staring at my lap. I could hear them talking again, and I looked over at Tyrion. "Will Lord Tyrion be alright?" I asked Oberyn quietly. "Tyrion had been dealt a very shitty hand these past months, I believe he can make it through an afternoon," Oberyn resonded. I shook my head, watching the next men come through.

"What the Seven Hells is he doing?" I muttered, sighing when I saw Jorah Mormont walking into the Pit. "He is a man in love, doing whatever it is he can to see Queen Daenerys," Oberyn answered, eyes full of pity. "I imagine I would do the same, if it came down to it, for my paramour," he continued. 

"What would you do if your husband said he never wanted to see you again? Ordered you away and if he told men to kill you if you ever entered his city?" He asked suddenly. I frowned, unsure of the answer, as the men started to fight. I held my breath as Jorah felled men, and then there was a hand on my knee. I looked down, realizing I had been shaking. "Ser Jorah is an excellent fighter, my Lady." Oberyn murmured. I glanced at him, then turned back to the fights.

Jorah was on his back, a sword to his throat. "Dany," I blurted in a pleading tone, glancing up at my cousin next to me. "Stop this, please," I continued, despite the inward cringing I felt towards myself. "She cannot," Hazdahr responded in a tense tone. "She can," Tyrion joined my plight, looking just as desperate as I felt. She just continued to stare at her former companion with a look I couldn't quite read. 

I looked back at Jorah, and felt my heart clench as the men above him went to bring his sword down the knight. I almost collapsed in relief when a spear came out of the man's chest. I hadn't realized it, but I grabbed Oberyn's hand at some point during that. When I looked up, Daenerys was staring down with something gleaming in her eyes. I turned back to the fight and saw Jorah struggling. I forced myself to breathe as the man that I owed my life to fought for his own. And suddenly, it was over. The crowd's anger was palpable as they booed the results. I watched as Jorah stared at Daenerys, concern marring the victory he should have felt. Before I could look around, he had grabbed the spear from the man he just killed, and hurled it through the air. 

I watched as Daario covered Dany's body with his own to get her out of the way, and I followed the spears path, my breath leaving my mouth in a scream as it landed in the chest of a Harpy, blood spraying everywhere. I stood looked around the arena in horror, seeing gold masks everywhere. 

"Protect your Queen!" Daario cried, though his voice sounded far away to my ears.

All I could hear was the screams of the smallfolk and nobles around us as they were slaughtered like sheep. I realized, with the distance of shock, that this was _exactly_ like slaughtering sheep. We were all herded here with that one purpose by the Harpy's. They killed everyone with equal fervor; peasant, former slaver, Unsullied, it didn't matter. The Harpy's were slitting their throats, stabbing them in the belly, I think I saw a few abandon weapons altogether and snap necks. I fought a shiver at the thought of skilled warriors being in their ranks, it went against our thoughts of the Sons of the Harpy being made of only former Masters. I clung to my skirts as the massacre happening in that moment started blurring with others I witnessed. Were those gold masks or the red cloaks? I shut my eyes and fought to stay in the moment. 

I don't know how long I stood there, fighting internally, but I was suddenly ripped away as an arm wrapped itself around my waist and pulled me away. I looked around and saw Dany being helped down off of the dais. I looked up at Oberyn and his face was an expression I never hoped to see in anyone's face again. "Don't do that," I snapped at him as he helped me steady on my feet when we made it down. He looked at me in frustration, "Save your life?" he demanded.

"Look ready to die," I shook my head as I looked around for Daenerys. She was running to the middle of the pit, like an idiot, I thought with a grimace. I looked around some more, and saw an Unsullied standing near one of the smoking pots. "Where are you going?" Oberyn called after me while I ran over. "Why didn't you do it already?" I screamed at the Unsullied, ignoring him. The young boy, one of the ones who hadn't yet earned his helmet, looked at me with nervousness. "I didn't get the order-"

"I think the people around us dying was a good enough order, go away now," I rolled my eyes impatiently at him. I barely noticed him run away as I looked around and saw the firewood tucked away where it was supposed to be. "What are you doing?" Oberyn yelled at me, and I fought the flinch at his tone. I threw the wood in, looking around nervously. I let out a breath as I heard the familiar whispers start in my ear, and looked at Oberyn, and then it hit me that he was there when he shouldn't be. "Go!" I screamed at him. "Are you fucking mad?" He shot back. I ignored him, it was his fucking funeral then. I pushed the pot over, watching as the flames went to die. _No, you idiots,_ I shook my head at it. They flared up higher than my head, and I struggled to keep them at that size. I looked at Oberyn, where he stood with wide eyes at me, and I felt irritation run through me instantly. The flames shot higher, and I grabbed his hand, running to where Dany stood surrounded by Second Sons and Unsullied. 

I could hear the whispers raise to a conversational voice level, as they followed us at our heels, and creeped outwards. It exhausted my entire body to keep it from rampaging the entire arena, the voices fighting me every moment and giving me a headache, and I fell into Daenerys as soon as she was close enough. She helped me stay upright, and I looked around. The flames raged on like a giant serpent, roughly the same length of Viserion last I saw him. It had taken out a sizeable amount of Harpy's, but as my exhastion grew, it lost size. I struggled, then had to content with bringing it into a tight circle around us. As it rushed forward, I heard screams of Harpy's whose robes caught. 

The last thing I heard was a dragon's roar, before collapsing onto the sand.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which curiosity kills the cat, and Rae gets a wake up call to the politics she's been dealing with
> 
> Also, I didn't realize how long this was (almost 3500 words), and while I considered splitting this into two chapters, I just couldn't. I might just make 3000 words my new goal for chapters, not sure yet.

In my dreams, I was still in Winterfell. Except, it wasn't the way I saw it last. There were no red cloaks on the battlements, or in the courtyard. Ramsay wasn't proudly displaying his 'trophies' and demanding we all basically fucking bow down to him for 'saving us.' No, the Winterfell I saw was in a state I hadn't seen it in years. I heard steel singing, accompanied by boys laughter, not screaming and sobbing. I walked toward it, and saw Jon and Robb practising with blunted edged swords. I almost collapsed as laughter escaped my lips. Jon looked back, and Robb took advantage of that. I smirked as Jon threw his head back onto the snow and sighed, then held his hand up. Robb grabbed it and helped him up, and I ran over, wrapping my arms around Jon's neck. 

But when I pulled back, both their faces were enraged. "I named Jon heir to become _King_ , not to be the lackey of some Queen who spent all her life in Essos," Robb snapped. I looked into my goodbrothers cold blue eyes, and all I saw was disappointment and betrayal. I looked up at Jon, and there was pain in his eyes. I dropped my hands to my side, my entire body vibrating. 

That was when I heard them. I looked around and saw every Northern Lord who visited Winterfell all those moons ago. They were all yelling, saying I was a traitor of the North, and demanding my head. I stumbled back, my heart pounding in my head. I turned back to my husband, waiting for him to step up and defend me, as he had done before. When Robb first demanded war on the South and pushed to know where I stood, as someone who had a small claim on the Throne. More than the Lannister bastard on it at the time. "I-I-" I stammered. "You knew, and didn't say anything. You knew who my parents were, and did nothing. Just stood by and let someone else take my claim, while you stole Winterfell from me as well." Jon rasped quietly. I shook my head, "No. No, you don't _want_ to be King. I-You-We spoke of it. You told me if I had been a Princess you wouldn't have married me, because being King wasn't something you were interested. You _told_ me that, so I-no," I repeated in a strained whisper.

"I'm dead now because of you." Jon said bluntly, his words laced with resentment and fury. "I was killed because you took the North for your cousin, and my men hated me for it. They stabbed me because of you," he continued, and tears fell from my eyes. I shook my head furiously, hair whipping, and when I looked down, it was red again. I lost my breath, growing dizzy. "Jon, please. Don't do this," I pleaded as the demands of dead Lords grew louder. 

But he looked away, at Robb. Robb was approaching me, and two men grabbing my arms. "No!" I screamed. "I did this for _you._ Everything I've done is _for you,"_ I screamed as I fought against the men holding me, , but my movements were slow and heavy. I looked around and saw a silber haired man amung the crowd, eyes dismayed. "You're neglecting your duty to speak up and inform the people I have a son, cousin. A son who lives, and has a right to the the Throne more so than my sister," the man spoke softly, but I could hear him over the men still screaming around us. "He doesn't want it, Rhaegar! Ned was his father, not you!" I screamed back at him, breathing heavily. "You still should have spoken up for him." 

"Raenara Snow," I flinched at the use of a bastard name I haven't used in months, "You are charged with high treason, against not only the North, but all seven Kingdoms. I, Jon of Houses Targaryen and Stark, First of my Name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar, and First Men, and Lord Protector of the Realm, hereby order your sentence to be death," Jon went on in a dead tone, and I was forced to my knees, the men around me cheering in approval as I looked up and saw Robb prepared to swing the sword. 

_"No!"_ I screamed, my eyes flying open. My hair was tangled and soaked with tears under my cheek, though my throat was painfully dry. My head pounded, and I wondered vaguely if my brain only existed to pain me so. I sat upright, rubbing tears my swollen eyes. "That must have been quiet the dream, I imagine the entire Keep heard your screams," a voice murmured from the vanity. I looked over and saw Oberyn sitting on it, looking around studyingly. I sniffled, looking at my lap while I tried to force my heartbeat to calm. "I-I wouldn't know," I lied in a whisper. The Dornishman looked at me in sympathy, "If that is what you wish, Lady Princess," he nodded. "Though, one day, I might become more curious as to why Prince Rhaegar might be naming you a traitor from the grave," he added, getting up. I watched him warily as he poured two glasses of wine, then put a creamy substance in one of them. 

__

I hesitated as he gave me the one he added to. "It is Milk of the Poppy, to help with the headache you must have," he told me in a quiet voice. I took it, and slowly took a sip, gagging at the taste of it. He chuckled quietly and sat next to me on the bed. "What happened? After... Well," I looked at myself, still dressed in the dirty dress from the Games. "Just as you were fainting, Drogon came to help Daenerys," Oberyn started. I nodded, remembering the great roar I heard as I collapsed. "It was an amazing sight, truly. He is a remarkable size for little more than a year old. Between him and the men, the rest of the Harpy's at the stadium were decimated. You helped, of course, that last bit of fire you supplied had taken more than half of the gold masks in the arena with us out. Daenerys went to go take out the spears they had thrown at the giant beast, and then got on his back and rode away into the horizon," he explained, words far too pretty for what he just told me.

__

Daenerys had abandoned Meereen. 

__

I downed my wine, and closed my eyes, fighting the nausea sweeping through me. "Can you go get Gilly for me? I need to change and then..." I sighed, hesitating. "And then gather up the advisors, we need a Small Council Meeting," I finished in a shaky voice. Oberyn nodded, passing me his own wine. "You look as if you need this more than I," he smirked. I looked at him warily, "How long was I out?" I asked instead of replying. He could take his answer from the way I took the proffered alcohol and gulped it down. "Not long, really. But, the Small Council, with the new addition of Lord Varys, is already convened, Lady Princess. They are just waiting for you to wake and join them." The way he said that, as if I actually had any authority, scared me more than anything. 

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Daenerys abandoned Meereen.

__

I sighed, and stood. "Very well, you can go tell them I will be there as soon as I am ready." I told him, not looking his way as I went over to my wardrobe. He nodded and went off to find Gilly first. I pulled out one of the Meereenese dressed I had made not too long ago, not as revealing as some of Daenerys's, but still had far too little fabric for my own comfort. It was better than what I was wearing, though, I thought with a grimace. I looked down again, my dress was ruined. The skirt was covered in ash, dirt, and blood, as well as burnt in some parts. I was quiet as Gilly helped me change into it, the girl looking uncomfortable. 

__

"Is something wrong?" I asked her sharply, wincing at my own tone. "No, My Lady. Well, uh, there is something..." she hesitated as she lead me to the vanity and started brushing the knots out of my hair. My very silver hair, with no hints of red, I thought with comfort. "Yes?" I asked with a quirked brow. 

__

"I was putting Nathyn into his crib for his nap when Prince Oberyn came in, My Lady." she admitted quietly. I tensed, "So he saw my son?" I asked tersely. She nodded, "I am so sorry, Rae. I know.. You said to... I am so sorry," she gushed. I shook my head, "It's fine, Gilly. I should have thought of that when I sent him to you." I shakily reassured her. She nodded slowly, "He didn't seem to notice anything though, barely gave the boy a second glance," she added quietly. I nodded, "That's good," I exhaled slowly. She finished my hair quickly, and then brushed out the left out strands, placing them over my shoulders carefully. I looked at the simplicity of it, internally grateful for that. It was just two small braids that met at my crown, tied off in the centre and left loose. 

__

"The Lady Princess, by the Dothraki standards Her Grace follows, should have no more or less than three braids, one for fighting the Boltons and escaping Winterfell, one for her feat at Castle Black against Stannis, and one more for today," a voice said from the doorway. I turned and saw Missendei in my doorway, watching in interest. Gilly flushed, and I shook my head. "We can figure that out another time. I don't really have time to redo the whole thing." I tried for confidence, but my voice wavered. "Of course, Lady Raenara. Shall we go now?" Missendei nodded. I stood and took a breath, "If we must," I sighed. She gave me a reassuring smile, then we left for the Small Council chamber. "How long have they been there?" I asked her quietly. "Long enough that the men are fighting over who should be going to find the Queen. I came to you because if we did not discuss it soon, I'm afraid everybody would have left," she admitted. I smiled, "Ah, yes, pissing contests are always so fun to deal with," I rolled my eyes. 

__

She gave me a curious look, and I laughed. "A pissing contest is what we Northerners call when men compete with each other when they want to show who's the toughest. It comes from little boys peeing in the snow to show who can go the furthest," I giggled. She looked disgusted and amused at the same time. I could barely see the Council chambers, and already I heard the arguments within.

__

"You can't all go, or else who will protect the city and the Princess?" I heard someone demand. "Well then who is going?" I heard Daario counter. I opened the door and the men all stopped, standing and bowing respectfully. I looked around and repressed a sigh, they all looked ready to bolt the moment I told them they could. "If you lot cannot keep your voice down so the entire city can't hear you, you may leave these chambers and never return," I snapped. "We have to maintain some semblence of unity," I added. They all looked rightfully ashamed, and I nodded, sitting. "Now, Prince Oberyn has explained what transpired at the Pits, and Missendei says you are having trouble figuring out who is going to look for my cousin," I stated. "As the leader of the Unsullied, I should be taking some of my men and going, Lady Princess," Grey Worm told me, face set in stone. I shook my head. "No, the reason you think you should go is why you should stay," I countered. He opened his mouth, but I held up a hand to stop his arguments.

__

"Grey Worm, Prince Oberyn, and Lord Tyrion will stay here, with me." I told them firmly. "Daario and Ser Barristan will go after my cousin," I looked around, daring them to argue with me. 

__

Which, surprisingly, no one did. 

__

It reminded me painfully, again, that Daenery's had abandoned us. The thought filled me with resentment.

__

"And what of myself, Princess?" a voice rumbled. I startled, looking at Jorah for the first time since entering the room. "My cousin was quite clear, she didn't want you in Meereen," I stated slowly. "But what you wish to do _outside_ of Meereen, even if in the presence of the Queensguard, is not for me to say," I finished with my eyes closing. I felt my migraine building again, the Milk of the Poppy wearing off fairly quickly. "Now that that is settled, will you lot put your cocks away and follow me?" I asked in a rough voice. I heard Oberyn laugh loudly, and Missendei gave a small grin. 

__

"Where are we going?" Tyrion asked, voice wary. I smirked, "To get someone who will hopefully help in aiding our plight," was all I gave. 

__

Then I took them to the dragons. 

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I noticed the men who knew what the cave held stiffened, while everyone else stared at me as if mad. "Who would be in here?" Tyrion asked dubiously. I just smiled and ordered the door to opened. Once the Unsullied moved the giant stone, I walked in and down, the flame from the single torch we had exploding and moving in 6 different directions to light the other down there. As if expecting me, Viserion and Rhaegal waited patiently, near where their chains began. I smiled at Viserion, and he bowed his head down in front of me. I stroked his scales, "Are you ready?" I asked softly. I felt a surge of impatience run through me as steam blew through his nose, and I left out a laugh. "Yes, yes, okay, I understand," I shook my head, walking around to between him and Rhaegal, pulling out the giant pins with some difficulty. 

__

Rhaegal went to run out immediately, but I watched as Viserion went in front of him to make his brother wait. "I need something of you two, do you understand?" I asked slowly. I was painfully aware that everyone was staring at me in concern, but I made myself ignore them. I watched Viserion nod subtly, and turned to Rhaegal. "Do you understand?" I repeated, my voice hard and impatient. Then, he nodded as well, and I grinned. "Very good boys," I giggled. Rhaegal blew steam, and I smirked. "I need you to go find your brother, and make him take Dany home," I told Rhaegal. He perked up, looking at me questioningly. "Yes, that means you can leave Meereen. But come home, yes?" I demanded. He nodded again, and I turned to Viserion, feeling his irration and hurt. "I need you to stay with me, okay? I'm going to need your help with a few things," I smiled gently at him, willing him to understand just how much I'd need his help. I couldn't connect with Rhaegal in the way I could with him, and I needed that. He nodded too, and moved so Rhaegal could leave. 

__

Viserion stayed back with me, and walked slowly beside me as I left the cave. I watched him blink against the sun, and made a sympathetic noise. "I know, it hurts me too," I murmured to him. "Go hunt with Rhaegal, I'll let you know when I need you," I shooed him, patting his snout gently. He hesitated, then ran off to stretch his wings. I watched him with pride and joy swirling in my chest. "Who knew you could handle dragons the same way you would children?" I heard behind me, and I turned. "The only reason Rhaegal didn't kill me for speaking to him that way is because of Viserion. Don't be mistaken, if someone else tried it, they'd be incerated instantly," I warned him. 

__

Everyone nodded, and I smiled. "Now, let us go back to the palace. I do believe there are more things for us to work out," I grinned. 

__

...........................

__

I turned the letter over in my hand, then looked up at Tyrion. "It's from Dorne, but it's for Dany," I stated slowly. "It is, but you are the one in charge in her absence. It's not unusual, actually. Prince Rhaegar had taken over for King Aerys in the other mans absences," Tyrion mused with a chuckle. "Not the most fitting example, but..." I looked at it again. "Remember, we need to know where Dorne lies so we can send you to Westeros and call your banners," Tyrion reasoned. I smirked, he was just as curious as I was. 

__

I sighed, then broke the seal. I read over the words quickly, and my heart nearly stopped.

__

_Dorne is convinced to join your forces, so long as you keep on your word to marry Raenara, your heir, to my brother. Though we are surprised at the offer, since Lady Raenara is already Lady of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North through her last marriage, we recognize the advantage of such a match._

__

I dropped the scroll, disbelief coursing through me. I started laughing, bitterly, and Tyrion looked at me in concern, "Is everything alright?" he asked slowly. I shook my head, "No. Everything is not all fucking right," I snapped, standing. "Where are you going?" He asked quickly.

__

"To go talk to the fucking brother to the fucking Prince of Dorne," I growled, clutching the letter in my hands, which was shaking. Tyrion jumped up and motioned for Grey Worm, who was standing outside the door, to follow us. I stormed straight to the chambers Oberyn had been moved to recently, and I flung open the door, not bothering to knock.

__

I found him in bed with another woman. One of the serving girls, no less. 

__

I laughed loudly as he rushed to get himself dressed, "Do Northerners not knock?" he demanded breathlessly. I shook my head as I kept laughing. Because of fucking _course_ this was the man Dany wanted me to marry. I mean, she was already pushing me to bed him, why not wed him as well? _Never fucking mind_ that he's one of the biggest whores in Westeros.

__

"Well?" he snapped, rushing the poor girl he was fucking out. I took a breath and ran a hand through my hair, making myself stop laughing. "What the fuck is this?" I almost shouted, shoving the letter to his bared chest. He took it in confusion, then read it. "I-I can assure you, Princess, this... Doran did not tell me of this," Oberyn seethed, but I couldn't bother feeling sympathy for him. 

__

"No? Because I was under the impression your brother couldn't just do these things without your consent," I snapped. I eyed him wearily, "Are you not a man of over four decades old?" I snapped. 

__

"I am thirty five, I'll have you know." He rolled his eyes. I scoffed, "Still an old fucking man, too old to be bowing to the whims of your brother," I shook my head. Tyrion looked back and forth between us, suddenly understanding. "Mayhap we should... Ah, we'll just leave you two alone," he stumbled. 

__

I walked over to the table and helped myself to Oberyn's wine. "You must feel hurt," the man acknowledged. I laughed again, a bitter, biting sound that was as cold as my homeland. _"Hurt_ does not begin to cover how I feel," I muttered into my glass of wine. It truly was a miracle I wasn't drunk all the time with how much I drank. I sank into the seat, and looked at the hearth. "I-I was going to have her reinstate mine and Jon's wedding vows," I whispered hoarsely, not really talking to Oberyn. 

__

"Can I ask why you let him leave?" The man asked quietly. I blinked up at him, "My mother was threatening to kill him, and Robb was going South. Starks don't do well South, so I chased him North." I murmured, sighing again. I held my cup on my lap and shook my head. "But why would Dany do that? We already have the North through Nathyn. My marriage with Jon had run it's course long before I met her, I just..." I blinked away tears. "I just thought I meant more to her," I whispered.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, we've made it to the end of Season 5. So, as we enter the events of S6, I will post a huge disclaimer. I didn't watch the last two seasons as much as I did the first 5. I've been using YouTube and Google only for what I couldn't remember so far, but now I'll be almost solely relying on it until I can get Crave to start working for me. Just a heads up.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Rae makes a huge decision in her game play.

_Oberyn POV_

He didn’t like being told what to do. He was Oberyn Nymeros Martell, and his lady mother had stopped looking to marry him after he fathered 2 bastards by the age of ten and seven, almost twenty fucking years ago. 

And now here he stood, engaged to a girl the same age as his eldest daughters at only eight and ten, though it amused him that she had been born on the day Robert Baratheon was crowned. A Princess who burned bright despite being born of the North she laid claim over. A young woman who sighed far too much for his liking, whose eyes glazed over as she closed off her thoughts from her face and was just learning to play a game he was thrown into before she was a load in her father’s sack. A girl who was actively hiding her son from him, if her handmaidens reaction the one time gave anything away. 

A girl currently locked away in her rooms. 

It has been almost a month since Daenerys left Meereen, and in that time, Sansa had started moving to name Jon Lord of Winterfell, and the Harpies had burned their fleet so Raenara couldn’t leave. So, like a child, Raenara could be heard screaming as she slammed the door to her rooms, and hasn’t been seen since. When Oberyn asked her handmaiden, the former Wildling had said her Lady was fasting and praying for answers from the Gods, and had ordered she not be disturbed. But, it was now the Seventh day since she disappeared, so Tyrion and Oberyn were hopeful she would emerge soon.

“I hadn’t realized our Princess was so pious, as a third generation bastard with one of her own,” Tyrion was commenting. Oberyn hummed, “She conceived her child during a marriage, and I haven’t heard of her taking any lovers like our Queen has done. Gilly also informed me that she prays nightly, to both the old Gods and the Seven,” He pointed out. Tyrion thought on that a moment, “I suppose so. If anything, we could use it to keep the Sparrows in Kings Landing content.” He mused. “Assuming your sister hasn’t already dealt with them,” Oberyn pointed out. 

Just then the doors opened, and Raenara walked through the. She looked eerily calm as she walked over to them. Her hair was still damp, but twisted in an elaborate style Oberyn could only assume Missendei had done herself. Her lilac eyes were not the storm he saw the last time he saw her, taking the men sitting for dinner in carefully. 

“Did the Gods give any answers?” Tyrion asked lightly, though his face was somber. “I have read the Holy Writ, which my great grandfather had so thoughtfully given Gilly before she was sneaked away to Eastwatch. Within the words, I have come to a decision,” the Princess nodded, her voice hoarse from obvious disuse. “Forgive me, Princess, I did not take you for one to follow religion so closely,” Oberyn repeated Tyrion’s earlier thoughts. She regarded him warily, “This is but the second time I have felt the need to be so open about such things. I apologize if it seems misleading,” was all she provided. Oberyn drowned, carefully observing her. He realized she still held some anger in her, but it was more subdued. She waved off the dinner plate put in front of her, instead holding out a glass for wine.

“I wish to formerly charge the former Good and Wise Masters of Astapor and Yunkai,” Raenara announced suddenly, her face still wiped of emotion. “We will write to them and demand they come for their trial, or I will take Viserion and burn their Keeps to the ground while Grey Worm leads our men through their streets.”

Whatever Oberyn had been expecting after her seclusion with the Seven, it had not been that 

“You wish to put the Masters on trial?” Tyrion asked in a confused tone. The Princess nodded, eyes hardening as she sipped her wine. “We will offer them a choice, a formal trial in which you two and Missendei will stand as judges, or trial by combat, in which I will choose Viserion as my champion. They need to answer for their crimes against Gods and men.” Oberyn glanced at Tyrion, surprise and confusion running through him. “So, we are … Asking them how they wish to die?” He asked, then cleared his throat. 

He understood it was the only way, Daenerys had tried to appease the former Masters with the Fighting Pits, and they had responded by trying to kill her. It wasn’t a secret the Masters were behind the Harpies. But, this was something she had come up with after convening the Gods, not in a War Meeting. He looked at the Princess and saw her eyes darkening slightly, her jaw clenched in a way that he knew must have ached.

Oberyn didn’t think anyone had ever looked more beautiful, though. 

_Rae POV_

I was not very proud of my tantrum, but after months of plotting and working towards something, it felt as if it was stolen from me. I felt as if I could see Winterfell, could smell the cold air and snows, and suddenly it was gone. And I couldn’t go fight for it either, because those stupid fucking Masters had stolen my ships as well. Truthfully, I had simply become overwhelmed by how spectacularly every fucking thing had gone wrong. 

It took everything in me to not blow up in anger again. The insane emotion gripped me tightly, intensified by Viserion’s restless reaction to it. It stole my breath and made me lose thought, and when I closed my eyes I could feel the dragon itching to fly North, though he didn’t know what waited there. 

I breathed through it, _patience_ , I told myself. 

“You will get the message to them?” I asked suddenly, the words rough against my throat still. Tyrion nodded, looking shell shocked it accepting. I forced a smile, “Good.”

…………………

I held Nathyn in my arms, the boy giggling and reaching out for the toy I held. “But that’s my toy,” I fake poured and he snatched it away. It was only but a month from his first name day, and I grew nervous as it approached. Because the Prince of Westeros, and Lord of Winterfell, needed a huge celebration for his name day. And that meant I couldn’t keep him hidden for much longer. I pushed the thoughts away at that moment, and jutted out my lip. He looked at me with wide eyes, and shoved the toy into my hand. I giggled, “Thank you, baby. Here, you can play with it.” 

He held the toy up with a grin, then shoved it into his mouth. I laughed, running a hand through his silver curls. I watched with a smile as he turned and crawled off of my lap and onto the floor, clinging to the bedsheets as he walked over to the dragon plush he had knocked over earlier. He held it up proudly, “Mama!” he squealed, shaking it. I laughed, “Yes, baby, that’s a dragon. Can you say that yet? Dray-gon?” I repeated slowly. “Visy!” He yelled, and I laughed again. There was a knock on the door, and I went to open it, keeping an eye on Nathyn as he started crawling around again, though he had difficulty since he was still clutching the plush in his hand tightly. 

“Yes-Oh,” my face fell as I stared at Oberyn Martell. 

I fought the urge to look at Nathyn, and gestured for the Prince to come in. “I’m afraid you came before naptime, which means it’s a bloody mess in here,” I smirked, looking at the toys on the floor, and the chairs pushed together with a blanket over them in the corner. 

“I have eight daughters, Lady Princess. I understand the mess of parenthood well,” Oberyn chuckled, eyes alight with amusement as he took in the sight as well. Nathyn was pulling himself up onto one of my chairs, and I ran over quickly. “Ahhh,” I mock yelled in a silly voice. I scooped him in my arms and rocked side to side gently, “You're going to give Mama a heart attack,” I giggled. 

I propped him on my hip and turned to Oberyn, managing to hide the fact I was having a heart attack anyways. “Was there anything you needed?” I asked quickly, ignoring Nathyn as he covered my face with my hair. Oberyn blinked at me for a second, then smiled. “Yes, Tyrion was just gathering a meeting of the Small Council. Said it is important,” Oberyn told me hesitantly. I bit my lip and looked at Nathyn, I had given Gilly the day for helping with everything lately. I nodded, “Alright. “ I looked at my ever present servants and motioned for them to take a few toys. 

I smirked at the disbelief on Tyrions face when I showed up , in my pajamas, hair loose, and a child in my arm for a Small Council meeting. 

“Very well then,” he cleared his throat. I sat and perched Nathyn on my lap, placing his dragon and horse on the table before me. He contented himself with them while everyone else settled. “The Wise and Good Masters have responded to your summons by reinforcing their city protections,” Tyrion informed me bluntly. I held back a smile, I knew they would do rhat. “Good. Grey Worm, how many men will we need to attack them?” I asked, beaming as my son waved his dragon through the air and made exploding noises.

“Is that what a dragon does baby?” I asked idly, pushing his curls from his face. He looked at me and blinked, then used the dragon to knock over the horse. “Visy!” he bellowed, laughing as he started shoving the dragon into my hair, behind my neck. I patted his hand and looked at Grey Worm expectantly. “I can take the cities with half of our forces, Lady Princess,” the soldier nodded. “

“Then we shall take half. And when we return, it should be just in time for someone’s name day,” I beamed at Nathyn. “Isnt that exciting, my love?” I asked him. He ignored me, deciding singing was more important than responding. “A name day celebration is a spectacular affair, Lady Princess. Do you think we can afford such a thing during war time?” Tyrion asked tensely. I looked at him steadily, “Back in Westeros, I believe you managed to pull of a royal wedding during war times. A simple name day affair should be fine. You will convene with Gilly on the matter,” I told him in a hard tone. 

Tyrion looked as if he were going to argue, but decided not to. “Yes, Princess,” he nodded. 

I perked up, beaming at the man as I had my skin a few moments ago, “Wonderful. Is there anything else?” I asked. He shook his head, “No, I do not believe so.” 

I stood with Nathyn, “Then I believe it is nap time.” Without any other words, I turned and left 

I was surprised when Prince Oberyn decided to join me, but didn’t question it. We walked in silence, Nathyn fighting to get down. “Just wait, my love,” I murmured. When we finally entered my rooms, I put him down and he bolted. “Is there something else you need, Prince Oberyn?” I asked the man without looking at him. 

He settled into a chair at my table, helping himself to a glass of water. “Actually, there is something very important I wish to speak to you about,” Oberyn said in a low voice. I turned to him, and his face was not the one of amusement he had when I brought Nathyn to the meeting. 

“How exactly were you planning to hide the grandson of Rhaegar Targaryen?”

My heart stopped. No, it was pounding in my ears. I couldn’t breathe, I tried but lungs wouldn’t work. Somehow, I managed to keep my face passive, and my voice was only a little shaky. “I don’t know what you speak of,” I deadpanned. 

Oberyn shook his head, “I almost want to believe you, Raenara. But I was uncle to his first son and daughter, so I know his kin when I see them. Little Nathyn looks exactly like Prince Aegon before he was murdered by the Mountain,” he almost sounded… apologetic. I swallowed, and shook my head. “I am Prince Rhaegars cousin, Lord Prince. Sometimes things happen,” I tried, but my mouth was dry. The words almost stuck in my throat. 

“His cousin or his daughter?” Obertn asked in a very serious tone, and I blinked at him. I realized then, of _course_ that was what he had come up with. That I was the long lost child. It made sense, I was only a few months younger than Jon, and my hair was silver, as was Rhaegar's. Then my mind took that relief and held on for dear life. Because while I was terrified of what would happen to me if someone found out I was pretending to be Rhaegar’s daughter, it would save Jon from being forced to take a crown he didn’t want. 

Besides, which one of Nathyn's parents was more believable for the role of the Silver Prince's child? 

I heaved a sigh, and rubbed my temple, sitting in front of Oberyn. He observed me closely, as if searching for his goodbrother in my features. Actually, that probably was what he was doing. “You can’t-I don’t-" I stammered, looking at him pleasingly. “You do realize what this means for Daenerys's claim to the Throne?” he asked, voice hushed. I nodded, “She deserves to be Queen, though,” I whispered. “And what of yourself?”

“I am Crown Princess, I will get it in time, and so long as Daenerys remains barren, the Targaryen House rests on my shoulders. I am fairly content with that,” I told him truthfully. I looked at Nathyn, where he played with his toys and rubbed his eyes. “It is time to put Nathyn down for his nap though,” I told him in a firm tone. I’m sure he understood the dismissal, but he settled back into his chair.

“I will wait in your study, then."

I rolled my eyes and went to scoop Nathyn into my arms again. He settled into my embrace quickly, and I sat on my bed, where I started to feed him. I ran my fingers through his curls as he babbled and fiddled with my face and hair. I chuckled, shaking my head. “Oh, my love, why do you insist on telling me stories while you eat?” si asked softly. He giggled and his eyes started to close. Within 20 minutes of Oberyn leaving the room, I had him settled into his crib. I looked down at him and sighed. 

“Oh what have I gotten us into?” I whispered, my eyes filling with tears. I blinked them away, and turned to go meet Oberyn in my study. 

I found him standing with his back to me, looking into the hearth. I walked over and sat in a chair I had placed in front of it. “When I was pregnant, Stannis Baratheon had come to Castle Black shortly after I did. He legitimized me a Targaryen, and let me live. I was confused to the Seventh Hell, so I had Gilly listen out for any reason why that might be. Finally, about a week or two afterward, she said he had planned to sacrifice me to his Lord of Light. I was only just growing into the powers I now realize are connected to Viserion, and sat in front of my hearth for hours at a time. It went against Aemon's orders for my bed rest, but I needed to figure out if I could actually do it.” I rambled, not knowing why I was telling this story to him. But he watched me in rapt interest, though I stared into the fire. 

“I almost died when he brought me to that pyre. Melisandre lit the four corners, and I could hear the flames laughing me, mocking me in their own way. I couldn’t breathe, the fuel soaked every piece of wood meant to be my only grave and it reeked. I vomited, more than once,” I recalled with a scrunch of my nose. “I had closed my eyes and accepted I would die, then and there without ever so much as holding my child, or seeing my husband one last time. I’d never look at him and get lost in his eyes, never feel so cherished as I did when he stared back. Jon…” I blinked back tears . “He always said that the world wouldn’t dare keep going without me somewhere in it. That the sun rises and falls because of me. When he left to Castle Black…” I had to stop again. Sobs wanted to rip from my throat, but I swallowed them and took a shaky breath. “When he left to Castle Black, he hated me. He'll never admit it, but I knew he did. And when I was there, ready to burn alive, my only resolve to not scream, all I could think of was how horribly fucking sorry I was. Because even before we fell in love, Jon was my person. He was there when my mother was being a horrible cunt, when my father was gone for work. He hid with me in the Godswood or Sept and just sat while I prayed. We got married because my father knew how we felt before we did,” I laughed bitterly. “He gave Jon his blessing on his deathbed. I had never been more furious with the man that raised me,” I shook my head. 

“What does this have to do with anything?” Oberyn asked, his voice genuinely confused. I shook my head, “Nothing.” I lied. 

It had to do with _everything_. Because that was why I was doing what I was doing. To make up for hurting the man I loved so much. Atoning for my sins against my husband by protecting him from the life he never wanted. Throwing myself into a game we mocked people for playing with their lives on the line so he wouldn’t have to lose himself in it. 

Even if it meant I was losing myself.

“But we are speaki ng truths, are we not? At least mine,” I came up with easily. “And the truth is, I don’t know who I am anymore. I look in the mirror expecting to see the young girl that married her best friends in whispers before the Weirwood tree. It feels as if an entire lifetime has passed since I was that girl. I came to Meereen looking for protection from the Lannisters and Baratheons. I didn’t want to be a Princess, much less a Queen. I just wanted a life with my son in peace,” I was whispering at that point, and I could see Oberyn straining to hear me from where he sat cross legged on the floor beside me. 

“But you are next in line, you can’t run from that,” Oberyn shook his head. “I’m a bastard, I _have_ no claim except the one Daenerys gave me as her heir,” I hissed furiously at him. The Dornishman smiled sadly, “Rhaegar might not have been as pious as to fast and pray for seven days, but he was not a man who lived in sin. Having a bastard isn’t something he would abide, Raenara.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. What was I doing? I opened my eyes and looked at him, “I cant keep one Kingdom, how am I supposed to be Queen for seven of them?” I demanded in a tired voice. He shook his head and laughed without humor, “Thar is because you depended on a man who shouldn’t have been depended on, Raenara. I know you love Jon, but he let you push him away when it sounds like you needed him the most. I may not be anything except your betrothed, but … I can help you, if that is what you wish,” he bowed his head, kneeling at my feet. 

I blinked at him, wondering again just what the _fuck_ I got myself into. 

“Just… help me help Dany, please,” I whispered through the tears in my eyes. He nodded, “If that is what you wish,” he murmured, grabbing my hand in both of his. 

And that was it. The moment I had manipulated a Dornish Prince into wanting to follow me to the ends of the world, I felt the last piece of myself fall away, lost into the chaotic void of the game of thrones. Somewhere in the depths of my mind, I heard a voice cry out in anguish at the loss, and it sounded like Jon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this was _so_ fun to write. Also I apologize for any typos, I'm using my mum's old phone and the autocorrect is abysmal, and sometimes corrects words with misspelt versions. But other than that, I hope you enjoyed it.   
> Oh, and when I put that Raenara was screaming at the beginning, I meant Regina George style screaming. You know, after she found out Cady was giving her weight gaining bars type of thing.


	24. Chapter 24

I wiped away a tear with my free hand, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “It is what I wish more than anything. Daenerys will make the perfect Queen of Westeros,” I whispered. Oberyn nodded and I stood, pulling him up with me. “Thank you, Prince Oberyn,” I murmured, surprising him by hugging him around his waist. It took a few moment for him to relax, but he did, wrapping me in the type of embrace I hadn’t felt for so long. I rested against his chest, closing my eyes. I allowed myself the one moment, as fingers ran up and down my back. I inhaled deeply, sandalwood and fine spices filling my senses, and I just thought. I thought about how this could all go wrong, and fall apart beneath my fingers. 

Gods only knew how much that had been happening lately. 

I fought off a panic at the thought, my mind going to all the things that could go wrong. Though I hadn’t confirmed or denied what Oberyn thought, I had just let him believed what he would. I looked up at him, and all I could see was that everything could go to shit, again, because of things I couldn’t control. 

I pushed up on my toes and lightly brushed my lips against his, because I needed _something_. Something of _my_ choosing, something that _felt_ right, even though it wouldn’t be right to the Gods I had so recently found again. “Raenara…” Oberyn whispered in a strained voice. I shook my head, “Please. I just… Please,” I whispered, he stared into my eyes again, and all I could think of was how different his eyes were from Jon’s. Instead of a stormy grey that showed every emotion, they were a deep brown and closed off. Finally, he tightened his hold on me, and nodded. 

And that was the day I took Oberyn Martell as a lover. Only the second one I’ve had in my life.

……………

I laid on the carpet with him afterwards, my head on his chest and my leg around his waist, and I gave a soft laugh. He lifted his head and looked at me, “Is there something amusing about this for you?” he asked quietly, though his voice was light and . I shook my head, “I’m just thinking of how Gilly would have been mad if I wrecked my hair for this. I’m glad I gave her the day,” I explained softly. He laughed, rolling to his side and tucking my head on his arm. “As much as I enjoyed that, is there something else troubling you?” he asked. 

I never got the chance to answer, though, as there was a knock on the door. I jumped up, suddenly glad I was only wearing pajamas as I grabbed them off of the floor and pulled them over my head. Oberyn laughed as he dressed, and he walked over to me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, “We'll talk more later,” I promised, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. He gave a low rumble of a laugh, and pulled me in closer, deepening the kiss more than I intended. It made my head spun and heart race as I held him tighter, forgetting the world momentarily. 

That tiny bit of peace was shattered with another knock on the door. I sighed and pulled away, walking to answer it. Just as I reached the door, though, it swung open and I had to jump out of it’s way. Grey Worm and Tyrion stood in the hallway, and I tensed. “Is there something you need?” I asked in a sharp tone. 

Tyrion was perhaps the most affected by what he had just walked into, his eyes wide with realization. “Oh, ah, we just received word from Yunkai and Astapor, Lady Raenara.” He started, then seemed to get his shock. “They’ve taken hostages, my Lady, and are saying that unless you release the slaves Daenerys stole back to them, they will start murdering them,” he informed me with a tone conveying the seriousness of the situation. 

I swore under my breath, looking at the men in turn. “How many men will we need to keep Meereen from falling?” I demanded, looking at Grey Worm. “We have more than enough men for that, Lady Princess,” he informed me with a nod, his eyes showing he completely misunderstood my question. 

I sighed, rubbing my temple and going for wine. “I want the men we need here posted where they can defend the city in our absence. Then, I want every man we can take prepared to leave immediately.” I ordered, turning to them, fury building throughout my being. “We leave in two hours, make sure you and Prince Oberyn are ready to lead the men.”

With that, I left to go find Gilly. Poor girl, she was probably never going to get a day to herself, I thought with a shake of my head. 

She didn’t seem to mind, though, her dark blue eyes had looked worried for me, actually. “Be careful, Raenara,” she asked a low voice, then pulled me in for a hug. I startled, not expecting it, then returned the embrace quickly. “I have Viserion, and I’ve been practicing archery for this very purpose,” I confided in her. She nodded, then pulled away to prepare the clothes I had a seamstress in the city make. It was a pair of trousers, and they were tighter than men’s trousers, the fabric was quite light and flexible. The shirt had sleeves down to my knuckles, and both were a solid deep grey, almost black with the darkness of it. I slid them on while she grabbed me a pair of ankle high boots that felt lighter than ones I wore in Winterfell. I sat at my vanity while she helped me put them on, and I felt a flutter of fear run through me. I attempted to put the feeling aside as she finished and turned me to fix my hair. 

Tyrion walked in while she was brushing it. “Are you truly prepared for this?” he asked, helping himself to my wine. “As prepared as I can be,” I responded in a shaky voice. “I find that I feel more ready for battle if I’ve had a good fuck beforehand,” Tyrion mused, looking at me warily. “And from what I can tell, you and Oberyn seem to have that handled already,” he added. I tended and looked at him through the looking glass, “I think that’s none of your business,” I told him in a hard tone. 

“You’re claim on the North is dependent on you being loyal to Jon. How will they react if they find out that not only are you engaged to another, but you also brought him into bed?” Tyrion asked in an equally hard tone. I sighed and rubbed my temple, resisting the urge to shake my head. “I will deal with the North after I’ve dealt with the Masters, Lord Tyrion,” I sighed in a tired tone. “Ah yes, but what use would the sentiment of crossing the bridge when you reach it be, if you have burnt the bridge already?” 

I watched Gilly pin up the last bit of hair, and turned to Tyrion with a glare, “I am of the North, Lord Tyrion. Burning that bridge is _not_ an option. Daenerys’s end game may be the Throne, but mine is in Winterfell with my son. I am the _Lady of Winterfell_ , Wardeness of the North, my Kingdom is my _home,”_ I snapped at him. “Casterly Rock is _my_ home, Lady Raenara, but I do not expect to see it again before I die,” he told me in a quiet tone, then left without another word. 

I repressed the urge to scream, my jaw aching with that resistance. I downed a glass of wine and slammed the cup down. “Who the fuck does he think he is?” I demanded, to no one in particular. I forced myself to calm, and turned to Gilly. “That’s not the leave this room, yes?” I asked carefully. She nodded, “No one will hear it from me, my Lady,” she confirmed. I nodded, “Good. I… Thank you, Gilly,” I fumbled. She gave a small smile, “I will see you when you return, Rae,” she almost laughed, shooing me away.

I walked through the halls feeling numb. I hardly noticed when Oberyn joined me, his face alight with excitement. We joined Grey Worm where he stood out front with a sizable amount of men. “What are your plans, Lady princess?” the Unsullied asked in a sober tone. Someone rushed forward with a bow and some arrows, and I took them hesitantly. The Second Son who had taken on teaching me had said I was a fast learner, but I was still wary of my skill. “First we go to Yunkai.” I announced, looking at the sky. I reached out and brushed Viserion’s mind, which was never too far from my own now. I could tell he was already on his way, and hugged myself lightly. Butterflies lit up in my stomach at the thought of what I was about to do. 

The men in my company waited patiently as I kept searching the sky. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, I saw his gold horns gleaming through the sky. “You are going to ride a dragon to battle?” Oberyn asked in an amused tone. I blinked at him, “But of course,” I grinned. 

Viserion landed with a _thud_ , and I beamed at him. “You ready, my love?" I asked. He blew out steam, then bowed his head. I laughed, approaching him slowly. “You _will_ ensure I don’t fall, yes?” I asked carefully. I felt a rush of indignation flow through me, and I shook my head. “I was just making sure,” I smirked. I grabbed one of his scales cautiously, then heaved myself up. 

It wasn’t unlike climbing trees in the Godswood, to be quite honest. I pulled myself up with ease, settling between his shoulders nicely. “Are you ready?” Oberyn called from down below. I looked at him, my heart racing and pounding in my ears. 

Before I could respond, however, Viserion was running. I let out a laughing scream as he rushed forward, gripping to him tightly. Then his wings flapped, and we were airborne. I blinked back tears the wind brought on, and felt my breath escape me suddenly. Not from fear, though, I trusted Viserion quite literally with my life. I wouldn’t be up here if I didn’t. No, it was exhilaration that left me breathless, as I looked down while Viserion did a quick circle around the pyramid. 

Meereen expanded below me, and Gods, it was beautiful. I let out a full, unrestricted laugh. I felt freer than I ever had in my life, up here above the world. My problems seemed to have been left below, because I couldn’t feel the weight of any of them. I was an entirely new person, with everything I wanted at my fingertips. 

I almost lead Viserion North on that feeling. 

I forced myself to focus, and looked down where Grey Worm and Oberyn were leading the men to Yunkai. Then, I pushed Viserion forward, and the dragon flew a bit higher as well. “Why would you ever land?” I asked Viserion in a yell. I felt his answer as amusement, and imagined if dragons could laugh, he would have. 

I sighed, in as much as I could at such a high level, and leaned forward, actually laying on him. I considered riding through the night, but decided against it. It would put me too far ahead of everyone. I looked behind me, where I could see the military forces quite a ways away, and then at the horizon, where the sun was setting. “an hour more, then we'll land,” I called to Viserion. He nodded, and I let go of him slowly. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, I realized as I steadied myself. I had already gotten used to movements of Visarion, so I was confident that save any sharp turns ne made, I could do decently from up here. 

I notched an arrow, and aimed it to my left. I was sitting up high above Visarion’s shoulder blades, so I didn’t have to worry about hitting his wing. I swung it to face my right, and I almost fell. I screamed and let go of the bowstring to grab Viserion, and the arrow flew to the ground. I laughed, and looked back. The men were still far enough away no one would see the arrow if we landed to grab it now. 

Viserion and I had been landed for the better part of an hour before they finally came into view. I was standing on top of the beast, and he was as patient as the Mother herself. I was walking along his back slowly, to see if it were possible to learn how to do so during battle. 

“And pray tell, Lady Princess, what is it you are doing?” I finally heard below ne. I looked up and grinned, “I thought it might be useful if I could run down and shoot arrows from behind if need be,” I called back to Oberyn. I heard him laughing as I went to climb down. Visarion flicked his tail, and I held my breath before running down it. 

I almost fell on my face, but Oberyn caught me by the waist when I crashed into him. I laughed loudly, still feeling light from my ride. “I see you’ve found therapy in your little escapade, Princess,” he grinned at me. I nodded, humming slightly with a smirk. “Gods, riding a dragon is… Unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life,” I grinned. 

“I think I can agree with that,” Oberyn chuckled. I blinked at him, taking a few seconds to understand what he meant. When I finally did, though, I playfully pushed him and laughed. “You are horrible, Oberyn,” I shook my head. 

I had to pull away when Grey Worm approached, and then they started to make camp. We still had a few days to get to Yunkai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... Still with me?
> 
> I know this seems like a bad idea, and that's because it is, but bear with me please. Rae is going to make some bad decisions, but it's all part of growing into who she's going to be in the game..


	25. Chapter 25

_**CASTLE BLACK, THE NORTH** _

When Jon first came back, from wherever his soul had gone, he woke up to something he never thought he’d see again.

Rae was sitting beside him, pushing back his hair and smiling warmly at him. _“Have a nice nap?”_ She asked softly. She was… Perfect, in the way he had only witnessed the day after their wedding. Her hair was loose and silver, her purple eyes void of the haunted look they had had when she came to Castle Black. She was radiant, and she almost had a halo around her entire being from the firelight behind her. She cupped his face and kissed his forehead, as she had done the time he got sick when they were ten and three.

Jon thought he had woken up in one of the Heavens.

But then, he heard the door open and Davos had walked in. When he turned back, she was gone.

And now Jon stood with Edd, and he was sure Edd would make a fine Lord Commander.

“Where are you going to go?” Edd asked quietly. Jon didn’t hesitate, “East,” he responded. “And what are you going to do?” Edd looked at him incredulously.

“Go find my wife and son.”

“I was with you at Hardhome, we saw what’s out there. We know it’s coming _here._ How can you leave us _now?”_ Edd demanded, eyes hardening. “I did everything I could, you know-

“You swore a vow!” Edd snapped. Anger bubbled inside Jon at the reminder. “Aye, I swore vows. I swore vows to _her_ too, Edd! I let her push me away and broke my vows and she was tortured by the Greyjoy’s and Bolton’s! She was half dead when she showed up here! So I kept my vows here and they killed me! My own brothers,” Jon was heaving, and he shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have been here in the first place,” Jon admitted in a hushed voice.

The horn blew, and Jon and Edd ran over. “Open the gates!” They heard. The two men ran outside and Jon watched her pull into the castle on a horse.

His sister was here.

He was down the stairs and in front of her as she dismounted, and he could hardly believe it. Was this another apparition? Or was it real? Before he couldn’t second guess himself completely, Sansa was running at him. He caught her and hugged her tightly. Gods, he had missed her. When she pulled back to look at him, she had tears in her eyes. He didn’t doubt he had tears in his, so he hurried her inside.

Once there were no onlookers, Sansa broke. She held onto him tightly and sobbed into his cloak, it sounded as if she was finally releasing years of grief. It burned his insides, made him want to go kill every person that had ever hurt his little sister, but he stayed with her.

They sat for hours, and he had someone bring Sansa food. She sat in front of the fire and sipped from the bow. “This is good soup,” she finally spoke. “Do you remember the kidney pies Old NaN used to make?” She asked suddenly. He had a feeling she was trying to fill the silence, so he nodded. “With the peas and onions?”

She jumped, and looked at the fire.

“We should have never left Winterfell,” he finally mused, staring at the flames as well. His mind went back to the day he was finally released from his rooms, and he saw Rae had nearly burnt down the entirety of Castle Black. They had finally just finished the reparations less than two moons ago.

“Don’t you ever wish we could go back to the day we left? I want to scream at myself, ‘don’t go you idiot,’” she snorted humourlessly, shaking her head. “How could we know?” Jon asked, struggling to stay with her, truthfully. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what an arse I was to you, I wish I could go back and change everything,” Sansa admitted, looking at him. Jon blinked at her in surprise, “We were young,” he reassured her.

“I was awful to you, just admit it,” she pushed. Jon bit back a chuckle, thinking of how Rae had always gotten annoyed when his sister acted, in her words, like a brat. As if reading his mind, Sansa spoke again. “Though I guess your wife was always there, standing up for you. Say you’ll forgive me, anyways,” Sansa almost smiled.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Jon finally laughed. “Forgive me,” Sansa chuckled back. Jon shook his head, still laughing. “Alright. Alright, I forgive you,” he relented. He had missed her, more than he apparently realized. He missed all his siblings, but he thought it softened throughout the years. Sansa being there brought everything back to the surface, though, and grief filled his being for his other siblings. He and Sansa were the only ones left alive, now.

He stared at the fire, and there was Rae, sitting cross legged in front of it and facing them. She remained silent, and he couldn’t read the expression on her face. She had learned to close off her emotions early on in life, and it seemed the apparition in his head recreated that perfectly.

“Where will you go?” Sansa asked softly, and he could see the fear in her eyes. “Where will _we_ go? If I don’t watch over you, Fathers ghost will come back and murder me.”

Jon looked at her, then back at the fire behind Rae. Sansa watched him carefully, almost weary of his response.

“We’re going to my wife,” Jon finally told her, and from the corner of his eye, he could see her tense. “She _hates_ me,” she whispered. Jon smiled, “Rae doesn’t hate you, Sansa. She got annoyed with you, sure, but she cared for all of you. Even though Robb was the only one she really talked to, she still asked about you guys. How Arya was doing with archery, how you were with sewing and what books you were interested in. When we grew older, Father started paying her instead of her lunatic mother, and she’d hole away all her money for all your name days. Her and her father bought you your first copy of The Flower Maiden,” Jon told her, looking at her steadily. “She was the one who got Arya the book on the Dance of Dragons, and Bran the bow set for his seventh name day.” He continued, and Sansa softened.

“How did they afford all that?” She asked, but it wasn’t disbelieving, it was confused. Jon shrugged, and sipped his ale, “Her and her father helped everyone out when they could, so in exchange they got lower prices on things. Her father was very strict with her, making sure she knew that since the Gods saw it fit to save them from the same fate their cousins went through, they had to ensure the Gods knew their gratitude.”

“She sounds like she’ll end up like Margaery Tyrell,” Sansa observed quietly. “That woman was always in the Sept and handing out coin and giving food to the small folk.” His sister shook her head and took a shaky breath. Jon couldn’t tell what was going through her head, and wondered what had happened with the pious flower Queen and herself.

“I have a boat prepared to leave in two days’ time. I’ll have them set up rooms for you as well,” Jon told her quietly, leaving no room for discussion.

He looked at Rae’s apparition, still sitting there, her fingers wrapped around her ankles in front of her, and she looked at him apologetically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this one is short and sweet, just short of 1300 words. I just wanted to catch up with Jon a bit, and start the next arc. While I would love to stay close to canon and have them tour the North, but this is where my muse lead me. Also, this is happening around the time between Chapters 22 and Chapter 23. 
> 
> Stay tuned, we’ll stay with Jon and Sansa next chapter too.


	26. Chapter 26

  
__  
**BAY OF SEALS, THE NORTH**  
  


 

“We’ll be there in no less than four moons. Might be more, but only the Gods will tell,” one of the crew members had said last night. Jon repressed vomit, he hated ships. Sansa slept most of the time, now, but he never bothered her. He hated to admit it, but seeing her made him feel guilty. She had the same haunted look Rae did, and it twisted a knife in his gut every time he saw it. 

He had failed every female in his life, it seemed. Even Ygritte, though he knew now he hadn’t truly loved her. He felt remorse for that, as well. He sat in his room and drank his ale, which was still bloody horrible, but he had at least grown to the taste. 

_“Why are you cooped up in here?”_ A voice asked laughingly. He looked over at Rae’s … Hallucination, he admitted with a grimace. “Seeing the water will have me heaving over the side,” Jon muttered. _“So instead you’ll sit here and get drunk, which won’t help your sickness at all?”_ Rae asked him, eyebrow raised. He shook his head, “You aren’t here and somehow, you’re on my arse,” he groaned. She move to sit on her knees and faced him, _“You can’t think you’re to blame for something you couldn’t control. You aren’t responsible over what happened to me, Sansa or Ygritte. You can’t beat yourself up over Robb and the boys. That wasn’t your story, yours lead to something bigger,”_ Rae chided him with a frown. 

He thought back to how it had been _exactly_ his fault. How if he had been able to rein in his temper, and actually look at the bigger picture, he wouldn’t have sworn to the Nights Watch. 

_“I don’t want you here anymore!” Rae screamed at him, throwing a cup at the wall beside him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What happened?” He yelled back. “This was all a mistake. A giant fucking mistake. We should have never gotten fucking married, we should have never …” Rae sighed and shook her head wildly, then ran a hand through her hair. He watched as she looked up at the ceiling and blinked away tears, fingers pulling on her then-dark red strands._

_“I went to Luwin,” she admitted, still not looking at him. “I heard-Someone told me Maester can annul marriages, so I went to him,” she continued, biting her lip. His lungs felt like they were collapsing, he didn’t want to believe her. “What did you do?” He demanded in a hoarse voice._

_“I fixed our mistake,” she answered in a rough voice, eyes still shining._

Jon banished the memory quickly. There had been nothing but more yelling after that, and he was sure everyone in Winterfell had heard them. 

He had left that night, seething and pushing his horse so hard, the thing was lamed by the time he made it to the Wall. His uncle received him warily, obviously haven been informed from his Father about why he was there. 

“Gods, I fucked up,” Jon admitted in a whisper. _“You shouldn’t swear, it isn’t becoming, nor does it suit you,_ ” Rae snorted at him. “You swear like a sailor,” Jon snapped back. Before Rae could respond, there was a knock at his door. Jon stood, the ale hitting him hard as he did, and he stumbled over to it. 

When he opened it, Sansa stood in front of him, eyes concerned. “Who’s in there with you?” She asked quietly, looking behind him. He almost let out a groan, gesturing her in. “No one. Just… Thinking out loud,” Jon lied. She obviously didn’t believe him, but didn’t push him. 

“We should stop in White Harbour,” she announced, sitting at him table. Jon blinked at her, “Ah, why?” He asked slowly. “Because we should be checking in on our men so we can give your wife numbers,” Sansa explained patiently. Jon furrowed his brows, “ _Our_ men?” He repeated. 

Sansa looked at him steadily, “Yes, because they are _our_ men. She only had a claim to the North because I was married and you were at the Wall. You guys aren’t married anymore, and your son is technically a bastard-“

 _“I’m_ a bastard, Sansa,” he reminded her sternly. “And Daenerys has seemed to have to legitimized the pair of them, since Rae was announced as Lady Raenara of House Targaryen,” Jon reminded her. 

“She’s already Princess of Westeros, the heir presumptive, if the last missive from Tyrion is to be believed. She can let go of her shaky hold of our home,” Sansa looked as if she were trying not to roll her eyes. “It wasn’t a shaky hold at the time, Robb knew we were married and apparently knew Rae was pregnant when he named me his heir. He knew I obviously couldn’t take it when he did that, so he gave the North to Rae.” Jon told her softly. 

“Robb was heard saying he didn’t care who was on throne,” Sansa shook her heard. Jon remained silent, not wanting to tell his sister of his last conversation with Robb for some reason. 

“He was only thinking of war when I left, so I can’t be sure of his plans after,” Jon finally gave her. Sansa’s lips thinned for a second, but he blinked and the annoyance was gone. 

 

“Still, you’re not in the Watch now. So the North is yours,” she told him bluntly. His stomach dropped, and it had nothing to do with the waves. 

“We’re not going to White Harbour. It’s only a weeks ride from the Dreadfort, and we’re not ready to face the Bolton men,” Jon spoke the words, truly believing them as they were true, but didn’t want to think of the reason why they were true. 

So imagine his surprise when, not long after that, they just a day from docking in White Harbour. 

Jon has went to Sansa’s rooms immediately, not batting an eye that she was still changing. 

“What the _fuck,_ Sansa?” He hissed. She tied up her gown and met his eyes levelled, “It’s time you made your first appearance as Lord of Winterfell, Jon,” she told him, as if she were dealing with a child. Irritation filled him, and he shook his head. “I will make my first appearance when my Lady is by my side, no earlier. _Do not_ push me, Sansa,” Jon had warned her. Sansa shivered, and he realized the room had grown colder. He didn’t think of it, though, just pushed the thought away. 

“They’re expecting us,” Sansa kept pushing anyways. “Tell then I’m ill, I don’t care. Just … I’m not meeting anyone until Rae is here,” Jon shook his head, turning and leaving. 

He was sure Lord Manderly would feel slighted, but refused to care. Not at that moment. He wasn’t interested in politics, or the games of court. He just wanted to find his wife and bring his family together again. His son was almost a year old, and he hadn’t yet met the boy. 

He sat in his room again, staring at the wall while Rae was sitting beside him silently. “I don’t want to see you right now,” he told her through clenched teeth. _“Then why am I here?”_ She asked, her voice not snappish or condescending, but genuinely wondering. 

_“Do you think it will come out?”_ She asked quietly. Jon glared her way, “It better not. Three people knew of that, and Robb’s dead. So unless you’re going to say something, it won’t.” He snapped. 

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, think about Robb’s not very well thought plot. 

_“Aemon isn’t a hated man, and you’re not a horrible person, Rae. If we just make it look the right way…” Robb had started again._

_“How would any of this be the right way, Robb?” Rae demanded. “You go to Kings Landing, rescue your father, dethrone Joffrey, and what? It comes out your goodsister is a bastard of a disgraced House? You really that the Nobles will want… no, this won’t work,” Rae had shook her head and sighed._

The memory faded, and Rae was gone when he looked over. 

He heaved a sigh and laid down, forcing himself to sleep. 

……………

Sansa couldn’t understand her brother and his dedication to the woman who left him twice. She was getting more and more frustrated that she couldn’t figure it out, as well. She had learned everything she could, from everywhere she could. She had spent enough time around the Lannister’s and Baelish, even Roose had his own lessons she had to grit her teeth to observe. Her life was hell, she refused to take it without the small benefits she could reap from it. Yet when it came to her half brother, those lessons went to shite.

Sansa had been sold multiple times because of her claim to Winterfell, only for it to be taken by her goodsister and nephew. There was civil war brewing in the North, why wasn’t Jon _doing_ anything about it? 

She wrote Lord Manderly, explaining that her brother wasn’t slighting them in the least, he only wished to see his son. It was something that he could surely understand. Even if he didn’t, he was honour bound to accept it. Jon was his liege Lord now, as he was fully capable of embracing the title Robb had gifted him. 

She just wished she knew what Rae was after. Tyrion had sent her a separate letter from the one he addressed to her and Jon. It told her that Oberyn had been named heir to Dorne, after Ellaria and three of the Sand Snakes were found enacting a heinous plot. Trystane Martell and Myrcella Baratheon were both dead, and Doran had no other children. After that, a betrothal contract had been signed by Daenerys and Doran for Oberyn and Raenara, so Daenerys was ensured Dorne’s support when she marched West. The two in question were horribly against the whole thing completely, and were searching for a way out of it. 

Sansa wondered what exactly Daenerys was trying to accomplish. To marry off Raenara to Oberyn would be an unforgivable offence to the North, and lose their support to her. If anyone ever found out about it, including Jon, they would turn against the Dragon Queen completely, despite Raenara growing up in the North and having Northern blood in her. They would look past the fact that her son was Eddard Starks grandson, since it was likely she would raise him in Dorne or Kings Landing after marrying the man. 

And Raenara acted as if nothing was amiss, apparently so confident in herself she still claimed she was Lady Regent of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North. 

She had learned a long time ago that Wardeness of the North was a false title. It was a lie fed to her by Baelish, and the fact that Raenara thought she could fill that role as well had her feeling sorry for the girl. Then Tyrion wrote that yes, Daenerys and Raenara has men to consult with on military strategy, but Raenara had a plan all her own for the Northern military. Tyrion didn’t dare name it extensively in his letter, only saying Sansa would appreciate justice being served. 

Sansa never thought she’d be on speaking terms with her first husband. She had resented him greatly during their short marriage, and had been content in the fact she would never see him again. 

Apparently, the Gods still had no mercy. She had been married to the next in line for Winterfell, yet never stepped foot in her home in those months. She was travelling with the new Lord of Winterfell, but he didn’t want to stay North. She knew that with the men that had pledged to Jon’s son-to him inadvertently- and the Vale, they had a chance against Roose and Ramsay. But Jon wasn’t risking it, claiming he was going East to not only reconcile with his own family, but to get Daenerys’s help. 

Sansa took a deep breath, wondering what the in the Seven Hells Robb had been thinking when he clearly gave the North to Raenara’s unborn child. She looked over the letter carefully, ensuring that everything was perfect. 

Then, after a second thought, she wrote to Tyrion, informing the man of their impending arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are. The North is caught up with the East, and we get a slight explanation of what Rae had heard a few chapters back. Please trust, there is a method to my madness, and madness there will be soon. Hope you enjoyed the Sansa bit, I’m actually really nervous about it.


	27. Chapter 27

_**YUNKAI, ESSOS** _

The last day of our march, I woke up a tangle of limbs with Oberyn. I hummed, not wanting to move. “We only have a few more hours until we are there,” Oberyn rumbled beside me. I groaned, my eyes still closed. I heard him chuckling, “I will go find coffee for you. Come on now.” I finally opened my eyes and blinked up at him “You really think we'll have coffee?” I asked in a groggy voice. He ran a hand through my hair, “I will push my horse to Meereen and back if it means finding you some,” he smiled. I laughed softly, “That would take days, though. I really hope we have some here,” I murmured. He laughed again, and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, “I will be back,” he promised. 

I rolled on my back and watched him as he searched the tent. He found a pot and put some of the water we had in it before placing it above the fire. “Should I dress and get food as well?” Oberyn asked with a smile. I shook my head, “No, but maybe send for Missendei.” I sighed. “I’m afraid that between you and these horrible pillows, my hair is more of a mess than it has been in my life,” I giggled, sitting up and grabbing a robe from the chair. Just then, a boy came running in, blushing deeply at the state of Oberyn’s undress. 

“An army is approaching, My Lady,” he announced, running out again. 

My heart stopped, fuck. I took a deep breath and shot up, reaching for the clothes I had had prepared the previous night. Since it was similar to the ensemble I wore leaving Meereen, I put them on by myself easily and then slipped into my boots. Oberyn dressed just as quickly, so when Missendei appeared, we were decent. She quickly twisted and braided my hair, without speaking so much as a word. 

I hesitated afterward, looking at the two of them. “Is everything ready?” I asked in a shaky voice. “Viserion is already outside as we speak, My Lady,” Missendei said in a gentle tone. I forced myself to breathe, lest my vision become spotty and I fainted before actually leaving the tent. Oberyn moved to replace Missendei behind me, and placed his hands on my shoulders. “You will do amazing, Princess. You heard the scouts, their army is sizeable, but ours is better,” he murmured, his thumbs moving gently at the crook of my neck. I turned and gave him a weak smile, and he kissed my temple quickly. 

“Let’s go,” he whispered. 

I took a deep breath and left the tent, the men were already in formation, waiting. I walked alongside Grey Worm, Oberyn not quite beside us, yet not behind us. When I reached Viserion, in front of the men, I turned to Grey Worm. “Everything’s in order?” I asked quietly. He nodded, “Yes, Lady Princess. We are as prepared as we can be,” Grey Worm nodded. I bit the inside of my cheek, then smiled at him. I watched as Viserion waited impatiently for me. I climbed up and instantly felt the tension leave my body. I gripped him tightly and looked down at the two men, nodding slightly. They took the signal and turned to lead the Unsullied and Second Sons. 

Viserion ran into the wind, and I let out a laugh as we started soaring. When we got high enough, I brushed against Viserion’s mind and reminded him of sharp turns. He acknowledged the thought, and I pulled out my bow and arrow. I looked down, seeing the Slavers army in the distance. I took a shaky breath, looking back at our own men. Oberyn and Grey Worm has decided on the formation, and while I still knew little of warfare in a detailed sense, I knew enough of it generally to trust them on this. They wanted to approach in a pincer move, something I had heard Ramsay had similarly done to Stannis’s army. 

If a madman could accomplish that, we had a chance. I sent off a quick prayer, and felt Viserion’s amusement at the action. I snorted, shaking my head. As we neared the army, I noticed they had built a machine that shot thick spears, probably to try and rid the dragons. I snorted, bringing Viserion closer to the army. I felt his entire being rumble and he roared, and I squeezed my legs tightly against him. 

I had went hunting with him a few days ago, just to get a feel for how things would be for this. I knew his body heated incredibly before he shot off his fire, and I was almost deafened by the shouts in my ears from it. But when I returned, I had one of the healers come check me over. There were no physical injuries, and my hearing returned to normal after an hour. 

Today was no different, and I clenched my teeth together against a scream, and brushed his mind with my own again, making my request known. He heated up, and released a long stream of flames, initiating the battle. Instantly, arrows started flying, and Viserion gave me little warning when he started flying higher. I had only a few seconds to shove the bow under my leg so my hands were free to clutch him tightly. He flew in an almost straight line upwards, and I finally let out my scream as my legs started shaking from the strain of holding on so I didn’t hang off of him. I had to tuck my head behind one of his spikes, my ears popping as we gained height. 

When he finally straightened and flew forward, I looked down. We were high enough the arrows fell back down to the ground before the reached us, even though the archers were aiming straight up. I watched them fall and land on their own men, and they fell instantly when they hit. I felt Viserion’s mind reaching, but realizing instantly it wasn’t for me. He was reaching out to his brothers, asking for at least one of them to come. 

I pulled the bow out from under me, and notched an arrow. I pointed it as straight down as I could, the top lighting the instant it was nestled properly. I flung out one, two, three, as many as I could as fast as I was able. The fire caught the rest of the arrows quickly, but the mini fireballs still flew down, hitting their targets aptly. I urged Viserion forward a bit faster, and we reached the contraptions and archers. I flung out a few more arrows, aiming no less than five at the things I could only think of as large crossbows. 

I realized it wasn’t doing much, so I reached out again. Viserion heated up in response, and my breath hitched. He incinerated the things, and the men behind them. I looked over, and realized that our own men had surrounded them completely. I bit back the premature feeling of victory, because things could still turn. 

Then I saw spots in the distance, and realized Dany and the other two dragons were here. I felt a grin light up my face, and Viserion went into a gentle curve to fly around the outskirts of the battle. I almost shot off more arrows, but refrained since my own men were down there as well. I didn’t trust myself to do that just yet. 

It didn’t take long for Daenerys to join us, and she had Dothraki screamers following her. I pushed away surprise, we would deal with that later. I felt Viserion’s gratefulness to his brothers, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t mirror my own feelings. 

I watched while the Dothraki fucked the Slavers army from behind, and the battle was quick after that. 

I was on the ground as the sun was setting, and I realized we had been fighting all day. Then, as I climbed down, I certainly felt it. My body was stiff and screaming at me for riding a dragon all day, but I forced myself to keep moving as Daenerys landed Drogon. When she was on the ground as well, she turned to me. 

Her violet eyes were blazing with anger, but I refused to back away. I knew my own resentment was apparent, and she came straight to me. “You came here without my permission,” she stated in a deathly quiet tone. I felt my heart rate pick up, but I kept looking her in the eye. 

“The Masters were funding the Sons of the Harpy, we needed to act quickly. I formally charged them and gave them an option to come to Meereen to have a civilized trial, but they refused. As I had charged them, this was a non option. They admitted guilt and needed to be sentenced. Again, I gave them options. I told them they needed to come to Meereen and face their execution there.” I told her, only stretching the truth slightly. 

Daenerys studied me closely, then relented. “I guess I can’t be too mad, I have just come from Astapor myself,” she finally admitted in a hushed tone. I snorted, “Great minds,” I smirked. She let out a soft laugh, then hooked our arms together and lead me to where she men were setting up camp, “We, ah, we need to talk about something. I had wrote Tyrion when I reached Astapor, but it had only just reached him as you were leaving.” Daenerys told me. I looked at her questioningly, but she shook her head. 

I looked around, notching Grey Worm was coming over. He was injured, but not enough that I instantly felt worry over that fact. 

It was the fact that he was alone that had my blood rushing in my ears. 

“Where’s Oberyn?” I asked him sharply. The Unsullied commander looked at me with a look I had never seen on him before, sympathy. “The Prince is with the healers, he received many injuries during the fight,” Grey Worm told me in that hard voice of his. I felt my legs shake, and I looked over at Dany. She gave a subtle nod, and Then she turned to Daario, “Would you escort the Princess to Prince Oberyn?” She asked him politely. The man nodded solemnly, and we were gone. 

Daario had to keep me from running, and I almost snapped at him. 

“You never know who’s watching, Princess. The fact you are already beside yourself with worry over a man who is not your husband is improper,” he told me in a whisper. I rolled my eyes, but kept to his sedate pace. 

It made for a slow walk, and it felt like ages had passed by the time we reached the tent the healers were given. I walked in and no one bowed and curtsied, like they normally do. Instead, a bunch of old women were hunched over tables and young women were running around. I peered around quickly, and noticed a table with four Ghascari women around it, and saw Oberyn’s tanned leg. I walked over quickly, and stopped at the end of the table. 

It was a bloody mess, there were bloody rags scattered on the floor, and I watched as they went through multiple more in less than a minute. Oberyn had multiple lacerations everywhere. I couldn’t count how many gaping wounds littered his arms and legs. But the one that concerned me was the one that stretched the length of entire chest and stomach. It was a clear cut from his left shoulder down to his left hip. I covered my mouth, from sobs or gags, I wasn’t sure. Daario wrapped an arm around my shoulders, “I know it looks bad, but it isn’t anything worse than what I’ve heard he’s survived in the Pits,” The sell sword attempted to comfort me. I knew he was lying, Oberyn had scars, sure, but nothing this degree. I knew it would take no less than a month to finally heal completely, and longer yet to lose the angry red and subsequent pink in the scar. 

But I didn’t make a scene, I didn’t scream at anyone, I didn’t cry. I clutched my own waist, and forced myself to breathe. The Ghascari healers whispered amongst themselves, speaking so quickly I could only register a few snatches of their words. 

Oberyn was awake, I realized with a start. He gave me a pained smile, and I felt my heart stutter. I knew the attempt to reassure me was forced, and I swallowed thickly. “It seems I am still at your mercy, my Lady. I imagine if you truly wanted, you could tell them to stop trying to save me,” he croaked. I gave a shaky laugh and shook my head, “I would never do that, surely you must trust me now,” I choked out around the tears. He gave a watery laugh, to the old crones dismay. 

_“You must go, Princess, he is in no fit state to hold conversation. We will be putting him to sleep soon anyways,”_ one of them informed me. I looked at Oberyn, who was still trying to reassure me through the pain. _“Send someone for me as soon as he is well enough for company, “_ I finally sighed. They nodded and Daario escorted me out. 

I expected to be lead to my own tent, the exhaustion hit me suddenly and I could barely keep my eyes open, but Daario kept me going to Daenerys’s tent. When we arrived, there were Dothraki men all around the tent, speaking in their harsh tongue with her. As soon as they noticed me, they quieted. I felt a blush stain my cheeks, but ignored the feeling. 

Daenerys spoke to them, but I couldn’t understand the words. I hadn’t been taught Dothraki yet, Missendei was sticking to the Valyrian dialects at that point. I looked around as the men filed out of the room, and then Daario bowed and left with them. It was just us, so I sat down across from her at the low table she had. 

“It seems as if there has been a misunderstanding,” Daenerys started. I bit my cheek, what was happening? She seemed to catch onto my confusion, and she sighed. “I suppose that is my fault. You see, that was the first time Doran had responded to my missives,” she explained. “I have no wish to marry you off to Oberyn, that would lose us the North. I can’t blame you for thinking that, though, because the man seems confident enough to demand such a thing.” She frowned. 

“But…” she hesitated slightly, looking at me with sorrow. “We still need Dorne, and to do that, we need to offer them _something._ So… Doran and I agreed the next best thing would be for Nathyn, the person after you in the line of succession, to reside in Dorne until further notice. I already have him and Gilly on a boat to Sunspear,” Daenerys told me quickly, as if she were ripping off a bandage. 

I felt like I had been punched repeatedly in the gut, my breath leaving me and bile rising in my throat. “You… _what?”_ I almost shrieked. She visibly flinched at the words. “It will keep him safe in the war to come, and help us in our alliance with Dorne,” she tried justifying it. I shook my head, laughing bitterly. “You … You don’t see it do you? No. How _could_ you see what you’ve just done?” I demanded. 

She threw my son into a pit of vipers who hated his grandfather. The man he looked exactly like. How could they ignore the fact that my son looked exactly like their nephew and brother by law? Fury filled me entirely, she had stolen my son and lead him to certain death. In fact, fury didn’t come _close_ to explaining how I felt. 

But I couldn’t tell her that, so I came up with something else. “You only foster your family with a House you have slighted. Theon Greyjoy became Ned Starks ward because Balon had foolishly attempted to break from the realm. By sending my son to the Martells, you admitted that our family has done something to theirs,” I whispered. She looked at my with sympathy, and I almost spit in her face. I was very proud of the fact I didn’t, and she started speaking again. “We personally didn’t slight them, but my brother did. He chose another woman over Elia Martell, and it lead to her death. That woman was Nathyn’s great aunt on his fathers side, so it’s penance for the Starks as well.”

“You sent him to the fucking Martells, Daenerys!” I screamed. “The House that has more reason to hate us than anyone else in this fucking Gods forsaken world! The only ones they hate more than your fucking brother is the Gods be damned Lannister’s! Our alliance with them is on a common enemy term!” I stood and ran my hands through my hair, yanking out the pins and braids. 

“You had no problem with them when you thought you were engaged to the heir of Dorne. In fact, I seem to recall hearing you bedded Oberyn already,” she accused in a warning tone. I scoffed, “Because while I was hurt like hell you would sell me off like a fucking brood mare, I could get over it. But my son hasn’t yet had his first name day and you hand him off like he’s nothing more than a fucking pawn!” I was vibrating, and suddenly the low table she sat at was ablaze. She quickly stood, her own anger nearly visible. 

“I am the head of your House, your sons House, your Queen, and we needed an alliance. I did what needed to be done. You are not to question my decisions, and you will _never_ lose your temper like this again. Do you understand?” She demanded in a hard tone. 

I stared at her hard, and bit back every response I had. Instead, I curtsied and bowed my head. “Of course, Your Grace. Please accept my deepest apologies, I still grow into these abilities the Gods have gifted me. If I may have your leave, Your Grace, I wish to return to my tent now,” I requested in a biting tone. When I looked at her, she recoiled as if I struck her. “You never need my leave, Raenara,” she gaped. 

“Thank you, Your Grace.” I nodded before running out.


	28. Chapter 28

_**A/N: So, I’d like to reiterate a note I put in AO3, but not FFN.  
Rae’s going to make bad decisions. She’s going to to do some questionable things, and learn things the hard way. She thinks she’s doing the right thing, but she’s going to go about it in the wrong way. This is part of her learning experience. She’s not going to be perfect in any way, she’s not going to even be half decent sometimes. That’s how I like to do things in stories, characters are fictional humans, and it makes no sense if they don’t go through some cringe worthy moments, just as real people do. I understand if you don’t continue reading because of the choices she’ll make and the things she’ll do, but she’s going to get better by the end. In a few chapters, someone’s going to make her take a huge dose of reality to calm down her growing hubris, and while I’d like for you guys to stick around for that, I completely get it if you don’t. ** _

_**Now that I’ve got that off my chest, I’d like to thank everyone for taking time for reading, and the favourites/follows/kudos. I’m especially thankful if you reviewed. Now, onto some more bad choices of the Crown Princess.** _

 

I ordered someone to bring me wine as soon as I saw another person. They nodded and I sighed, going to my tent to wait. 

I had never wanted to get truly and completely drunk before. But, after downing three glasses within ten minutes of the wine arriving, I decided it wasn’t a horrible idea. I sipped on the fourth glass and moved to my vanity, realizing that I had made a complete mess of my hair. I heaved a sigh and grabbed my brush, dreading the pain I was about to endure. As I was tugging on the knots in my hair, I saw someone enter my tent in the looking glass. 

“You have hurt the Queen,” Barristan rumbled. I looked over at him, frowning. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just kept brushing my hair. He sat on the chair next to me, and I blinked at him. 

“What are you doing, Raenara? You say you love Jon, by you haven’t been showing it lately beyond keeping his secret from the Queen.” 

I stiffened, glaring at him openly. “I love my husband. Is this because I bedded Oberyn?” I demanded. Barristan looked at me carefully, then nodded. “No one would question my love for my spouse from that if I were a man,” I snorted. He shook his head, “If you really loved someone, you wouldn’t sleep with someone else,” he insisted. 

“Then my husband has no love for myself, either.” I bit out, though I flinched and regretted it instantly. That wasn’t fair of me at all. I shook my head and hung my head. 

“I just… I don’t know what to do,” I whispered. Barristan let out a breath and looked at me with sympathy. “Gods, I keep playing this game like I know how to, but I’m really just like a drunk bumbling the cards table. I just.. I want to go home,” I admitted, brushing my hair again. I wasn’t sure why I was confiding in my cousins Lord Commander, but I was. 

“What are you going to do about Jon?” Barristan asked quietly. I blinked at him, and almost started crying. “I… I let Oberyn think I was Rhaegar’s daughter. He noticed how alike Nathyn was to Aegon, and I… I didn’t deny anything.” I choked out. He stared at me with an expression I couldn’t read, and looked down. “So you’re not going to tell Jon? You’re just going to let him decide on his own?” He asked in a hard tone. I felt my defensiveness come out as anger, and forced myself to breathe. 

I stared at my wine glass for a few seconds, swirling the deep red liquid inside. It wasn’t unlike how my hair used to look, I realized with a pang. I took a sip and thought hard about my words. 

“What did you hear about what Robb’s intentions were when he started the war?” I asked quietly. Barristan looked confused at my sudden change of topic, but didn’t question it. “He wanted to save his father, and then he wanted to avenge Lord Starks death,” he answered in a slow voice. 

“Yes, he also wanted the realm to know of Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen’s bastard status,” I started explaining. I took a deep breath and then another drink. “You see, Ned sent him a letter, before he went to the Queen to confront her. After news of his imprisonment was spread, Robb and Jon were infuriated. They wanted the Lannister’s to burn, they wanted the entire House to just… Disappear, their bastards of incest dethroned ,” I shook my head. “It was how I imagine Robert Baratheon being when Rhaegar and Lyanna ran off together.” I admitted. “That was known throughout the kingdoms,” Barristan stayed, giving his first sign of impatience. 

“Yes, I know that. What wasn’t known was what he planned for after Joffrey was revealed for who he was, Jaime and Cersei’s bastard, a false King,” I shook my head. 

“It was the perfect revenge on the Lannister’s, on Ned’s behalf, on my own behalf, he said. _‘You shouldn’t have to hide because they would execute you, dear sister,’_ he told me,” I rolled my eyes and took a sip. “It was the perfect plot. They would march South, make every deal they needed to, get every Lord they could to help them. Crush the Lannister’s in the Westerlands, then attack Kings Landing, behead Joffrey, and there I would be. The great grand daughter of a man the realm wanted as King _so_ terribly all those years ago. A woman that the small folk could relate to, since I grew up a servant to the Starks, but enough pedigree in my blood that the Nobles would have accept it. With their own reserves, of course, but that was what the North was for. Robb had everything planned, he had quite the silver tongue,” I felt my heart grow heavy. 

“Robb Stark wanted to make you Queen,” Barristan realized with wide eyes. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, “Robb wanted his family a King.” I murmured. “But Jon didn’t want to be King, he made that very clear. He told Robb as much, told _me_ as much. I think he was rather relieved when I told him I ended our marriage, just a tiny part of him, for that reason.” The last part was pure speculation, but one I was confident in. 

“But, I separated from Jon, and Robb left me in Winterfell. It was found I was pregnant, and Luwin told Robb, because he had to. His Lord was going to have a niece or nephew from a Targaryen bastard, there was no way Luwin would be able to get away with keeping that from Robb. It didn’t matter how much I begged,” I shuddered at the thought. I couldn’t imagine begging anyone of anything now, save my cousin to return me my son. “Robb found out I was pregnant by Jon around the same time he heard of Sansa’s marriage to Tyrion. He sent a raven to Luwin stating Sansa’s inheritance was null and void, that he legitimized Jon and was naming him the next in line instead,” I told him before drinking more wine. 

Barristan was following my drunk sentences well enough. “He indirectly named you his heir instead, despite the annulment,” he nodded. I smirked, thinking of how well my goodbrother worked it out. I noticed my glass was empty, and refilled it. I took a long drink, the alcohol settling over my body entirely. “I didn’t think of it like that, at the time. Bran was still living, and he was after Jon, and at the time Luwin was guiding him to be a wise and honourable Lord of Winterfell. Then everyone fucking died and I was too consumed by grief to fucking do anything.” I could feel the bitterness filling me again. 

“I am the blood of the fucking dragon, I control the flames themselves, my great grandfather was the man everyone wanted to be King a lifetime ago. I had Robb all but give me Winterfell himself, telling me to continue with the plan if something happened to him,” I took a deep breath and drank. “I was weakened by emotions. I was watching everyone around me die and suffer themselves. I suffered by the hands of lesser fucking men because of it. I was raped, beat, and mentally fucked by the Greyjoy’s and Bolton’s. My entire life was shit and I didn’t lift a fucking finger.”

Barristan finally interrupted my ranting. “You couldn’t do anything, revealing your lineage and the position Robb gave you would have just ensured your death,” he told me in a hard voice. 

I eyed him wearily, “I know that. Why do you think I would burden my husband with the exact same shit? He left me with a fight, but not much of one. I know him better than he knows himself, and he knows for damn sure he don’t want to be a fucking King. Being a northern Targaryen isn’t an easy thing to be, Ser Barristan. You have a part of you wanting to return home, to Winterfell, content for the lower position of Lord or Lady of Winterfell, but there’s another part of you that feels _obligated_ to remain South and take up that part of yourself. It’s fucking difficult, the two pieces of your identity warring with themselves.” 

Barristan seemed to finally grasp the whole point of my tirade. 

“You really think you’re protecting him by keeping this,” he whispered. I looked over at him, my jaw clenched. “If I told Jon who he was, there’d be no way in hell he’d return to Winterfell. He hates the games of court, and the politics of everything South of Moat Cailin, but he’s too honourable to turn his cheek at his parentage.”

“You need to give him the chance, Raenara. Tell him the secret, tell him no one else besides the two of us know, so he can make the choice and not worry about the beliefs of others. If he refuses, I will help with your story of why Nathyn looks like Rhaegar until the day I die.” Barristan pushed. 

I looked at him hard, unsure of what to do. 

“If you do not, I will. And he will know the betrayal of your choice,” he promised. He laid a letter on my vanity. “You have three months to make your choice.”

I opened the scroll with shaking hands, Tyrion’s familiar writing on it. 

_Jon Snow and Sansa Stark are coming._


	29. Chapter 29

I was In my painfully quiet rooms alone, my hangover long gone, but nausea still filled me. I had sent away everyone, including my newly appointed handmaidens. I kneeled beside my bed, the Seven Pointed Star open before me. I read the words in earnest, despite knowing every one of them was burned into my head. I longed for a weirwood, and briefly wondered if Daenerys would agree to let me go to Braavos and visit the House of Black And White for their weirwood face. I shook my head, my loose hair flying every which way from the action. 

We had returned to Meereen seven days ago, and I had locked myself in my rooms. I had guards posted outside my doors, saying I wasn’t to be bothered from praying unless the stars were falling from the Heavens themselves. Everyone seemed to accept that, as I had only heard one argument outside. It had been between Tyrion and Daenerys, but it quickly ended when Tyrion explained I was convening with the Gods again. Daenerys seemed to have realized she couldn’t interrupt such a thing, and I haven’t heard her voice since. 

I prayed for everything under the sun in that time. My knees and back were sore, and I could feel my throat becoming raw from not speaking, but I kept on. I fell asleep kneeling, and as soon as I woke I prayed. The servants wouldn’t bother me for simple things like refilling my water. I kept it beside me, multiple jugs coming and going throughout the day. I would stand to stretch and collect the fresh water and leave out the empty containers. They also left out light meals at first, but realized after three days it was for naught. I always left them and they went to waste. 

I took a large drink of water, and repressed vomit that came from the hunger. I wondered idly if it mattered that I starved myself for seven days and nights while I flipped through the holy text before me, for all the help I got from it. I focused on the passages of the Mother the most, hoping to find something in her Mercy, in the beginning. When that failed, I looked to the Crone and her Wisdom. I wept heavily for days, not finding a single word to help my grief. It was an emotion I detested heavily, for all the weakness that came with it. 

Then, I turned to the Father and Warrior. I felt myself shying, but pressed on. I ignored my mother telling me women didn’t pray to them, we prayed to the Maiden, Mother, and Crone. Silent Sisters prayed and belonged to the Stranger, and men prayed to the Father, Warrior, and Smith. 

I needed justice, I needed strength and courage. I clutched the top of my head and prayed with everything I had to them. I prayed to the Smith as well, to help repair the brokenness in my soul. I prayed to the male facets of the Seven for the first time in my life, and instantly felt my spirit lifting. It was almost a magical feeling, washing over me in a breathtaking way. I wept again, this time from gratefulness. 

It was in that feeling I could feel the entirety of the Seven helping me. I closed my eyes and saw the Crone’s lantern, and the Mother and Father were whispering in my ear. I realized the beatings on my person and soul were the Smith preparing me for what was to come. The Maiden wept, but it was with the a grace I could only hope to hold one day. It was for my innocence and the childhood I was robbed of. I held on for an entire day and night, my entire body aching but my mind free and taking every feeling the Gods gifted me. I knew what it was They wanted, in penance for my recent actions, and was ready for it. 

When there was a knock on my door the eighth day, I opened it with tired and swollen eyes, but a clear mind. 

Daenerys rushed at me, enveloping me in an embrace I willingly returned. When she pulled back, I gripped her hands and brought her to my study. She looked me over carefully, “Are you hungry? Do you need to see someone? Tyrion told me sometimes the fasting and praying constantly was hard on the body, and I know you’ve now done it twice in the last month,” she said in concern. I laughed, wiping the tears from my eyes and shaking my head. 

“I could do with a light supper, but beyond that I’m fine,” I reassured her. She looked at one of the servants I hadn’t realized followed us, and she nodded and went off. I sniffled and stared at my lap, shame running through me. “I’d like to apologize for my previous actions, Dany,” I whispered. She came to stand beside where I sat, and took my hands in her own. “There’s nothing to forgive, Raenara. It is I who should be apologizing. You are the sister of my soul, and what I have done is unforgivable. I should have consulted you about having Nathyn go to Doran.”

I raised my eyes to hers, and saw the honesty in them. I stood and hugged again. When I released her, I looked her straight in the eye. “My son will be safe in Dorne. I don’t question that. It is the one kingdom that didn’t submit to force, so the Lannister’s have no chance of getting to him there. It hurts me that you did it without any notice or asking my opinion, but I understand the reasoning. He is out of the midst of war, which is more than I could say he would be with us or in the North,” I admitted in a thick voice. It hurt my throat to speak so much after going so long without saying a single word, but it needed to be said. May the Mother grant me her Mercy, and the Warrior lend me his Strength to do so, I repeated in my head. 

Suddenly, the servant Dany had sent for food returned, and placed the food on my desk. I sat and watched my cousin sit in front of me. I nibbled on bread and butter, paying close attention to how my stomach handled substance after going so long without so much as a cracker. I noticed she was eyeing me warily, and tried to reassure her with a smile. I knew she didn’t believe it, so I scooped the stew with the bread and choked it down. I then pushed the tray away, feeling the nausea take hold once again. 

“Is this really what worshipping the Seven requires?” Dany asked quietly, in a hesitant voice. I shook my head, “The only times I’ve felt the need to fast and pray is the twice here, and the Seven days and nights after Jon left Winterfell. Most who follow the Faith never feel the need to do so,” I explained softly. She looked at me wth curiosity, and I knew the question burning in her mind. 

“It seems the man is at the forefront of your greatest distresses.” She commented offhandedly. I took a deep breath, and thought about my words before speaking them.

“It’s more… The distresses surrounding us both,” I finally spoke. She looked confused, so I shrugged. “My first fast came from guilt, for what I had done. I sent him North, instead of allowing him to go South with his brother. It was more for penance than guidance, truthfully,” I admitted. 

“Do you think lives would have been saved if he went South? Or would he have died in the Red Wedding alongside his brother and goodsister?” Dany asked me. I shook my head, “Jon wouldn’t have been invited to the Red Wedding. He wasn’t allowed at Roberts Greeting Feast, Catelyn Stark saying it would be an insult. There’s no way in hell Jon would have been allowed at her brothers wedding,” I explained. 

It was a wonder to me how I could continue to try and play the game after my religious epiphany. 

“I would have killed him if he went though. Because, he surely would have been allowed in the tents outside the Twins, and there was almost just as much bloodshed there as there was inside,” I granted. She looked at me with a decisive look, then poured herself wine and dismissing the two people in the room. 

“I killed my husband,” she admitted in a whisper. I held back a gasp and allowed her to continue. “I spoke against rape and murder in a village my husbands Khalasar had just defeated, in a loose sense. My husband, the true man he was, told his men I was their Khaleesi, and my word was as good as his own most times. He ended up fighting another man, and pushed himself against the other mans arakh in a show of power. It wasn’t much of a cut, but it lead to an infection. He refused to treat it, and he was dying. I made a deal with a witch, and traded my sons life for my husbands. Except, when I woke, my husband didn’t have a life. Not truly. He was unresponsive, and would never be the same as he was. The witch told me, ‘When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before’,” she took a deep breath. 

I had heard Daenerys was infertile after a pregnancy gone horribly wrong, but never knew the details. She was continuing before I could comment. 

“I spent weeks despairing over him. I bathed him, I fed him food and water. I gave my own sons life for his, and I had hoped he would return to me despite her words. Finally, I accepted he wouldn’t, and I smothered him with a pillow.”

For the first time in the months I had known my cousin, my sister in truth, I watched her cry. I held her hands, lost for words to comfort her. She gripped my hands tightly, almost painfully, but I didn’t pull away. 

“I let him go, to ride with his ancestors, and in that fire I hatched our dragons,” she finally spoke again. I pulled her to me, her head on my shoulder while I ran my hand up and down her back. The Dragon Queen, the woman who had more braids than I could ever hope to earn, wept in my arms. I held her tightly as she let her grief out, and I couldn’t imagine how many chances she had to do that over the years. Pity didn’t fill me, I couldn’t imagine that, but sorrow and my own grief did. I could feel her pain almost as if it were my own, and I wished it could be my own, if only to save the woman in my embrace from feeling it. 

She finally pulled away, drinking her wine, and I bit the inside of my cheek. 

She wiped her cheeks and cleared her throat, and despite her red eyes, she looked every bit the Queen she was. I watched her carefully, suddenly realizing there has to be a reason for this whole thing. 

“I’d never keep you from your husband, I’m honestly hurt you think I would,” she whispered. I let out a breath and ran a hand through her hair, “It’s not… I don’t… I’m still new to this royalty thing, and my mother…” I hesitated, biting my lip. She took my hand and gently squeezed, urging me forward. “Marrying Jon was the first thing I had done against her wishes. She was a drunk, and mad, but I always followed her every whim. The only exception up until my marriage was what I did with the money she didn’t know I had.” I confided. 

“How much did she drink?” Daenerys asked quietly. I snorted, “Enough to make Tyrion look like an amateur,” I rolled my eyes. 

“Well, you’ll have time to make your own amendments. For now, though, I need to know something,” Daenerys hesitated. 

There it was. 

I didn’t respond, instead just blinking at her. “Ah, you see, twodaysagotheGreyjoyscametoMeereen,” she admitted quickly. It took a few seconds for her words to register, but when they did my hearth exploded. 

“Rae, please, we need their ships. They brought over a hundred. With their fleet and the Masters, we can go home,” she pleaded gently. “But I won’t resent you if you say you do not want an alliance with Yara Greyjoy,” she added. I stood, and she joined me. “Just give them _one_ chance to talk. You are my heir, though, so your opinion is taken into great consideration.” 

I looked at her, my mind warring with itself. “I will give her _one_ chance.” I finally gave in. She beamed, “Thank you.”

I let her loop her arm with my own, and lead me to the Throne room, where there were already people gathered. 

My eyes locked with Theon Greyjoy’s, and he seemed to double over in his cringe. I dragged my eyes away from him and met his sisters, who met my gaze steadily. 

Daenerys lead me to in front of her throne, and I expected her to sit. Instead, she stood by me and kept her arm in my own. Yara spoke, keeping her eyes on me. “I’d like to start this negotiation by giving you two a present, someone I’m sure the Princess would love to have back,” She said. I looked around, and watched as two of her men brought in a woman I’d never see again. 

Ria knelt before us, sobbing. My breath hitched at the sight of her, dirty and broken. I could smell the stench of her from where I stood, and repressed a gag. Daenerys moves from our arms hooked to holding my hand, and I squeezed it to keep from running to the woman who had made my life hell, yet was the only person who kept me going through it all. “Clean her up and bring her below,” I told Grey Worm. He nodded to one of the men nearby, and she was taken away. 

Yara watched me with interest, probably because I had just sent my own mother to the dungeons. “If you don’t stop staring at me, I’ll have your brother sent with her,” I snapped. She quickly looked away, her eyes meeting Dany’s not long after. 

“You Grace, was that a sufficient enough peace offering?” She asked in a deathly quiet tone. I glared outright, but Dany cut off my snappish response before I could get a word out. “That was a gift to my cousin, not myself.” She told the Ironborn woman. 

“I’d like to interject,” Theon stated in a breathy, shaky tone. I looked at him with wide eyes, what the fuck? That wasn’t the boy I had watched grow up in Winterfell. That wasn’t the broken man I watched follow Ramsay’s every order. 

Theon was a different type of broken from the last time I saw him, and I felt it hit my gut hard. 

Dany looked at me questioningly, and I gave a subtle nod. She turned to Theon, “Go on, Lord Greyjoy,” she allowed. 

He met my eyes, and I fought a flinch. I clenched my jaw, my breath coming quickly. I could still hear him, _“Look at the itty bitty Lady Snow now.”_

I blinked back tears, gripping Dany’s hand hard. 

“I would like to offer my most sincere apologies, Lady Raenara. I was a horrible monster, and while the Gods have punished me, it’s not near what I deserved for how I treated those in your Keep. Yourself included,” he bowed his head. Yara looked affronted at her brothers admission, but didn’t say a word. I swallowed a sob, and my mouth dried. 

Dany rubbed her thumb on the back of my hand, and I tried to form a thought while I stared into Theon’s eyes. My entire body was shaking, every part of me was screaming. 

I couldn’t do it. 

I released Dany’s hand forcefully, and covered my mouth. To my horror, a sob ripped from my throat, and Theon almost collapsed at the sound. Dany wrapped an arm around my shoulders, but I shook her off, turning to run out. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see, everything was spinning and I couldn’t blame it on wine. I haven’t had a drink in over a week, and I desperately needed one. 

“Lady Princess, please give him a chance,” Yara’s voice stopped me. My horror, my grief, my pain instantly burned into anger and I turned back around to glare at her. My feet were moving towards her, and I was in her face. 

“You don’t get to get to plead on his behalf. He killed my goodbrothers, two little boys not yet ten namedays old between the both of them. Who gave _them_ a chance? Who gave Rodrik a chance? Most definitely not your brother,” I hissed. 

“I didn’t kill Bran and Rickon,” Theon choked out. I turned to him, fire exploding from the torches and circling the throne room. 

“Why the _fuck_ should I believe you, you fucking turncloak?” I shouted. He cowered pitifully, and I snorted. 

“Rickon Stark is at the Dreadfort now, a prisoner of Ramsay Bolton,” Yara told me quickly. I turned my glare to her, shaking my head and laughing harshly. The sound bounced off the stone walls, it echoed in the flames I kept at bay. It was a cold, dead sound. 

“Why should I believe either of you? He betrayed his family. The father he was raised by, the brothers he grew up with. He is as much of a Northerner as I am, yet he turned against our family faster than your could snap your little fucking fingers.”

“We brought you your mother back,” Yara’s voice was almost pleading now, and I rolled my eyes. “You brought me the abusive drunk-“

Theon fell to his knees, staring at me desperately. “I didn’t kill my brothers, Raenara. _Our_ brothers still live, I swear on everything I have.”

I sneered, “One if those things ain’t your fucking cock, that’s for sure.” I heard Tyrion snort at that. 

“I helped Sansa out of the Dreadfort. Keep me prisoner until she comes,” he offered. I walked over and sat cross legged in front of him. He looked pathetic, his eyes sunk in, paler than anyone else I had seen. I ran a hand through my hair, ignoring the urge to vomit on him. 

“Just stay the fuck out of my way until then.” I relented.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas everyone. My present to you is Rae getting her head out of her arse.

I took a deep breath, staring at the door before me. The guards waited for my next move, and I almost turned away. I almost left Ria in her cell, but the thought of leaving her there, with only her madness, filled me with mixed emotions. 

Finally, I nodded for them to open the door. Ria’s head snapped up, her eyes meeting mine. They were red and puffy, from the tears that filled them or lack of sleep, I wasn’t sure. I could smell vomit, piss, and shit as soon as I entered, I wrinkled my nose, fighting back a gag. I almost jumped when the door shut behind me, but held back. 

“My dear girl, you’ve come for me,” she whispered, a smile breaking out over her face. I knelt before her, and her smile reminded me of when things were good. When she didn’t constantly cheat on my father while drunk on cheap ale and wine. When she was an actual mother, the kind to tuck me into bed and whisper stories of my family’s achievements until I fell asleep. 

I stared at her hands, which she was reaching out to me. I flinched away from her, remembering all the abuse I endured by those hands. She quickly placed them in her lap, head hanging. Her thick dark hair fell over her shoulders in a matted mess, and I almost felt pity for her. 

I couldn’t remember why I was there, kneeling on a dirty floor for this woman. Her pathetic state distracted me from what I came here for. All I could do was stare, and wonder how everything had gone to complete shite. 

“I imagine you’re proud,” I whispered. She looked up at me, “More than words can describe, my love. You’re heir apparent, your son is Lord of Winterfell-“

“You will never speak of Nathyn, Ria.” I snapped. 

“You named him Nathyn?” She asked in a whisper. “Of course I did, Papa was my entire world until you killed him,” I snapped. She recoiled as if I struck her, and guilt was clear in her eyes. 

I stood and brushed off the dirt from my skirts, “I hope your Mariticide haunts you until your last, Ria. My Papa was a good and kind man, far better than you deserved. We should have left you when we had the chance,” I glared at her. 

“I hear you’ve been no better than I ever was, Raenara,” the woman sneered. I ignored her and turned, banging on the door. “You May not have killed Jon, or harmed him in any physical way, but you really are my daughter.”

When it opened, I forced myself to not run out. I could hear her laughing, even as the door shut behind me. 

…………….

I clenched my hair in my hands painfully tight behind me, as I leaned over the toilet and retched. My heart pounded in my ears, and I struggled to breathe. 

_You really are my daughter._

The thought brought on a new wave of nausea, but I forced it back. 

I wiped my mouth and stood, wrapping my arms around myself and gripping my waist tightly to keep them from shaking. I walked to my vanity, and sat in front of the mirror. I brushed out my hair, which I wore loose today. I slowly brought the brush through the long silver not-quite-curly strands and forced myself to focus on the action while I calmed my breathing. I stared at my own violet eyes, disgust running through my being. 

One of my new handmaidens came through, I blinked at her. She was saying something, but I couldn’t really hear her. Ria’s laughter rang through my head, and I put the brush down suddenly. 

“Can you go bring me Lyseni hair colouring? I saw some at the market not too long ago,” I asked her. She looked surprised, unsure of what to make of my request. “Erm, what colour, Lady Princess?” She finally asked. “Red,” I replied, staring at my hair again. 

She left, and I was surprised she took it as well as she had. I bit my lip and looked around. Nathyn’s toys were still sitting in his crib, which was still sitting by my bed. I walked over and pulled one out, holding it to my chest and returned to the mirror. 

_You really are my daughter._ I felt as if I needed a bath from her words, but I knew why they affected me this way. I bit the inside of my cheek until blood pooled in my mouth. 

They were true, I had realized that almost as soon as she spoke them. A shiver ran down my spine, and everything I had done made me want to vomit again. I had become so like the person I despised my whole life, and I couldn’t put a finger on when that had happened. I lied, cheated, and hurt everyone I ever loved. I chose to chase Jon to the Wall, instead of simply protecting him until we could march South with Robb. I slept with Oberyn, justifying it in the most heinous way, that I needed something that was my own choice, not realizing everything _was_ my choice to begin with. Tears pooled in my eyes. I really thought I was doing well, having fought for my life and the positions I held now, but I had really just strayed from everything I was, every standard I held. I was nothing more than what Ria had wanted me to be, a shadow of her. 

My Papa would have been so disappointed in me. 

I don’t know how long I sat there, crying and wondering how I could fix everything I had done. By Daenerys came into my rooms, eyes blazing. “Why did you send for hair colouring?” She demanded. I swallowed, wiping away the tears. “I’m going to Braavos. If I take Viserion, I should be there in less than a month,” I told her. 

“Are you running away?” She asked, and I realized she was hurting. Fuck. I looked at her over my shoulder, “I just wish to visit the House of Black and White, for their weirwood face. I hear they have a place of worship for every God known to man, and I just… I need to visit something, and it would take months to reach the North and a weirwood tree.”

“You’re going to the home of the Faceless Men?” She asked in a strained voice. I shook my head, it wasn’t the most wise decision, laid out like that. 

Daenerys didn’t look unsympathetic, though. She pulled a chair next to me, and grabbed my hands. “Do you need help colouring your hair? I dare say you have a lot of it,” she gave a pained smile, releasing one hand to grip a small part of my hair. 

“I hate that you need to cover it up.” She admitted. I gave a small smile, but no words came to mind. She held a hand out, and my handmaiden brought over three small containers holding the Lyseni product. 

She motioned for me to turn, and began to do my hair. 

………..

I walked through the halls of the Keep, pulling on my hair. It was a blood red now, and I had to fight cringing at the feeling at brought forth. I had to keep remind myself that just because I looked as the peasant I used to be, I wasn’t one anymore. I opened the door to Oberyn’s room and peeked my head in, seeing if he was awake. 

It had been a month since returning to Meereen, and his wounds were healing nicely. The healers told him to remain bed bound, though, so I haven’t seen him much. 

He was sitting up, drinking milk coloured wine, and blinked at me. I stepped inside and fought another flinch as he eyed me. “Your hair,” he commented. I nodded, bringing a chair beside his bed. “I’m going to Braavos, and since I can’t bring guards, this was what I had to do.”

I left out the main reason I had done it, how I felt I needed to reground myself and the physical reminder helped. 

“Why are you going to Braavos?” He asked, tensing. “I’m going to the House of Black and White, for their worship room,” I murmured, pouring myself some wine. “My husband is returning, and I … Well, I need to remind myself of where I came from.” I explained. He nodded, sipping his drink. 

“Your husband,” he repeated in a hard tone. I looked at him, my mind going a million different ways. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. He shook his head, “I knew what was going to happen before we started this,” he waved me off. I almost reached out for him, but held back. 

“I hope you find what it is you’re looking for in Braavos, Lady Princess,” he nodded, and I took the dismissal.

…………

I rode Viserion as far as he could go the first day. He didn’t seem to mind, I think he was happy to be away from Meereen. I ended up sleeping on his back for the first night. When I woke up, my body was sore and stiff. He pushed on for a few hours more, and we landed in a clearing. I climbed down and stretched. 

“Are you going to take care of dinner or should I?” I asked the Dragon idly. He stared at me unblinkingly, then shook his head, and I could hear his thought as if he thought it in words. 

_You can’t hunt anything large enough for the two of us._

I snorted and rolled my eyes, “Very well, then.” I shook my head. 

The entire tripped was like that, I’d offer to go get dinner, but Viserion refused. The nights alternated between sleeping on the ground, and sleeping on his back as we flew. We were flying straight through, and were expecting to reach Braavos in the next few hours. 

Viserion moved faster than I expected, he flew throughout the night more often than not. At first I had tried to dissuade him from doing so, then I learned just a weeks past that dragons didn’t need to sleep often, and Viserion was just eager to keep moving. 

I gripped him tightly, letting my mind wander. 

What in the Seven Hells was I going to say to Jon? What the fuck was I going to do? Gods, I ran a hand through my hair, “I really fucked up, Vis,” I muttered. I could feel his sympathy, and I leaned to lay on him again. “I’m going to have to walk the last bit,” I reminded him. He grunted in acknowledgment, and I sighed. 

“Thank you again, my friend,” I murmured. He nodded, and I grinned. 

My eyes grew heavy, and I allowed myself the chance to nap while I could. 

When I woke, he was landing. I climbed down and walked to in front of him. He met my eyes and I rested my forehead against him. “I wish you could come with me,” I whispered. He reached out and let me know he didn’t mind at all, and would take the chance to roam the new area. 

I straightened and sighed, running a hand along his scales. He shook it off, and I knew he was telling me to go. I smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the nose, laughing when he rolled his eyes. 

It took less than a day to reach Braavos from where we were, and I walked into the city with my hood up. I took a deep breath in through my nose, smelling the sea air and food first. I wandered over to the docks, and searched for someone who could help me. I happened upon a young woman with her back to me, and tapped her on the shoulder. 

“Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you-“ I stopped as she turned. Grey eyes met mine, and I felt my heart lurch. 

“Arya?” I asked in a whisper. She glared at me, “And who are you?” She demanded in a warning tone, hand reaching for a small sword on her hip. I pulled down my hood, “It’s me, Rae,” I kept my voice to a whisper, and looked around. 

She grabbed my wrist and pulled me through the crowd, into an ally, “What are you doing here?!” She hissed. I blinked, “I heard the House of Black and White had a weirwood face,” I answered, my mind still reeling. 

She was here, alive. 

“You don’t want to go there,” she told me in a flat voice. I blinked, “I just wish to pray-“

“Then go home and visit the Godswood. You _are_ Lady Regent in Winterfell, aren’t you?” she sneered. I flinched at her tone, shaking my head. “I-I don’t want that. I’m going to tell Dany when-“ I stopped, realization hitting me like a brick wall. 

“Come to Meereen with me,” I told her suddenly. She eyed me carefully, “And why would I do that?” She demanded. “Jon and Sansa are coming.” I told her, my voice sounded excited even though I wasn’t. 

“Is my nephew there?” She asked, voice almost hopeful. I bit my lip and looked it to the street beside us. 

I could lie, and say _yes, would you like to go meet him?_ But I felt nausea rolling when I thought of lying again. I turned back and met her gaze, “No. my cousin sent him to Dorne,” I told her bluntly. “And you let her?” She demanded, eyes blazing. “I-I was in Yunkai, dealing with the former Masters when she sent him away.”

“My brothers going to fucking hate you for that,” she snapped. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wasn’t in the mood to argue, “I will take whatever anger he has when we meet again.” I shook my head. “But, for now, I wish to pray. Go home if you want, I just wanted to give you the offer. It still stands, by the way. I’m here for a few days, come find me if you change your mind,” I told her, turning to walk away. 

She gripped my wrist, painfully so. “Don’t go to that place. I’m telling you, they’ll kill you just so they could ask the Lannister’s for the reward. Robert paid them to find your cousin, but they’ll take whatever Targaryen they could,” she wanted me. I looked at her over my shoulder, but she was continuing. 

“They’ll see your hair for the lie it is.”

I could feel blood drawing where her nails dig into my skin, but didn’t try to shake her off. “How would you know that?” I asked, voice calm despite my pounding heart.

She shook her head, obviously not about to tell me. I sighed and turned, reaching out and brushing the hair from her eyes. She flinched, but I kept my fingers behind her ear, “I brought my dragon, Arya, come with me. As soon as we speak with Jon and Sansa, we’re going to Westeros.” I pleaded with her. She met my eyes, hesitance there. 

“I’m going to kill the Freys and Boltons.” I finally told her. She blinked at me, but her face was wiped of emotion. “Why would you do that?” She demanded. “Because Robb was my brother, too. And what they did was unforgivable. I’m going to make them pay, by wiping their names from existence, and burning their Keeps to the ground. When I’m through with them, the Houses of Frey and Bolton will be but a faint memory,” I promised. 

“Fire and blood,” she whispered, smirking at me. I let out a laugh, “Fire and blood, yes. Because Winter is coming, and the North remembers,” I smirked back. 

I dropped my hand, though I kept her gaze. 

“I’m afraid I shan’t be leaving until the morning, I had to walk the last bit and I’m terribly exhausted. But, meet me by the city limits tomorrow morning if you wish to come with me,” I smiled at her and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was completely at a loss for how to write Arya, I hope you liked it, though. I’ll admit, not my best chapter, but I did my best.


	31. Chapter 31

I sat cross legged in the grass, picking at it. I had been there an hour, and there was still no sign of my goodsister. I was fairly sure she wouldn’t wouldn’t come, but I was going to wait anyways. I told her I would, and this felt like my first step to changing who I had been becoming. I could still hear Ria laughing at me, and shivered. 

“How are you cold?” A voice asked in front of me. I startled, looking up. I felt a grin light up my face, “You came!” I rejoiced, standing. Before I could stop myself, I hugged her to me. She stiffened at the contact, and I pulled away. “Sorry. I just…” I trailed off, looking around awkwardly. She looked just as awkward as I felt, so I turned and gestured away from the city. “Viserion can’t meet us right near town, so we’ll have to walk part of the way,” I explained. 

We didn’t talk our entire walk, and the hours of silence got on my nerves. To my surprise, I wasn’t the one to fill the void. 

“Is it true what they say? That you control fire?” She asked suddenly. I looked over at her with a smile, “Yes. The Gods gifted me with ability after my cousin hatched the dragons. She has the gift of walking through fire,” I explained. 

“So her gifts are defensive and yours are offensive?” She asked curiously. I nodded, “I guess so.”

The tiny conversation died off, and when the sun was setting, I stopped and looked around. 

Before I could reach out to him, I could see him in the distance. When he landed in front of us a few minutes later, Arya was gaping. I smirked as she ogled him a bit, and then I climbed up. 

“Come on,” I urged, and she climbed up as well. I helped her the last bit, grabbing her hand and pulling her up. I sat her in front of me. “I’m not sure-“

Viserion interrupted her doubts, running then lifting off the ground. She let out a scream, but not unlike myself, it turned into laughter. I let out my own laugh of amusement. 

I could feel Viserion’s curiosity, and let my own feeling of thankfulness be known. _This is my husbands sister,_ I explained mentally. He gave a nod and I smiled. She was tense as we continued on, “Getting back is going to take longer than it did to get to Braavos. I imagine you’re not yet comfortable enough to sleep up here,” I explained. She looked over at me, “You _sleep_ up here?” She asked, confused. I laughed again, “Viserion and I are connected mentally, and I trust him completely. He also likes to keep moving, so I spent more nights sleeping up here than I did on the ground,” I smirked. 

“You’re … connected?” She repeated. I nodded, “It’s the most interesting thing, reminding me of the stories of Warging from back home,” I shrugged. 

I could faintly hear her hum, and she looked in front of us wistfully. 

The first night we camped out, I could swear I heard her muttering something. I looked over at her, and she was staring at the fire with a distracted look. Her hand clutched the skinny little sword I knew Jon gave her. I smiled and propped myself on my elbow, “You learn how to use that thing?” I asked with a smile. 

“Stick them with the pointy end,” she smirked at me. I threw my head back and laughed, then laid back down. “Good night, little wolf,” I called, then let myself fall asleep. 

The trip was… eventful to say the least. When I woke up the first morning, Arya was practicing with her sword. I sat cross legged and watched her in interest. She was amazing, dodging and attacking as if a real opponent were in front of her. 

“Did you ever learn to fight with a sword, Lady Princess?” She called to me. I startled at the sudden break from the quiet, but quickly regained myself. “No, though a Second Son taught me archery and I mixed it with the fire,” I responded. She stopped and stared at me, “Are you any good?” She asked, coming to sit with me. I shrugged, “My archery is passable. I only learned so I could shoot from Viserion’s back if needed.” I told her, looking around. I went for the bag I brought with me, producing the bow and arrow. 

“Have you ever learned?” I asked idly, thinking I already knew. “A bit, when I traveled with the Brotherhood,” she recalled with a distant look. I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “Would you show me how good you are?” She asked, looking at me intently. I shrugged and stood, shrugging the quiver on my back. I pulled one out and aimed for the nearby trees, aiming for slight movement quickly. The arrow flew for a few seconds and she stared at me with doubt, but I simply looked over and waited. Finally, a squirrel dropped onto the ground, and I pulled out another arrow. I aimed and fired, getting a rabbit. I walked over and picked up a stick on my way by, “Carve a spit?” I asked, throwing it. She caught it and started to work. I grabbed my kills, and brought them over. She laid out some sticks, and I lit them while I continued skinning our makeshift breakfast. 

“I haven’t had game in a while before this trip,” I remarked absently. “Princesses don’t need to hunt for food, I imagine,” she smirked. I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Absolutely not. It’s an insult to my person to have to put such filth in my body,” I sniffed pompously. She burst out laughing, “That’s scary good acting,” she choked out between snorts. I laughed with her, putting the rabbit on first since it was larger. 

“Did Jon teach you to hunt?” She asked quietly when we settled. I bit my cheek and nodded, “When we were ten and three. I think he got his fever shortly after our trip,” I remembered with a pang. “Ah, Yes, I remember that now. Our Father was beside himself with worry that Jon had disappeared for three days,” she smiled. I giggled, “I told Jon to leave a note. But even then, I don’t think Jon was allowed to see me for two moons,” I rolled my eyes. 

“If it helps any, he told me it was worth it.” Arya told me in a soft voice. I bit my lip and stared at the fire, letting the soft whispers envelop me. “Why did you chase him away?” She asked suddenly, her voice giving away her resentment. I sighed, knowing I deserved it. “Because I was stupid and thought I was doing the right thing. I’ve been doing that a lot lately,” I added the last part in a whisper. 

I let my mind wander to the possibilities of this conversation. I could tell her the Secret, but quickly decided against it. Jon should know first. Besides, it was pure speculation on mine and Barristan’s part. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, anxiety suddenly clawing at my entire being. I pulled the rabbit off of the spit, and used my dagger to cut it up for us. I ripped off some of my skirts, and placed half of them on it for her. “Not the most ideal plating, but it’s better than the ground itself,” I shrugged, handing it over. She grabbed it and grinned, “Id take this over a royal feast any day,” she remarked, and I laughed. 

“I guess some things never change, do they?” I asked. She shook her head, digging into the food. I picked at my own portion, suddenly nauseous again. Gods, I hated this. I knew I wasn’t pregnant, I had my moons blood before I left Meereen, and I drank Moon Tea frequently. I just always felt sick, and it was driving me mad. 

I had finally spoken about it to one of the healers, on my way out of Meereen. She did a quick exam, confirmed I wasn’t pregnant, and told me it was all the worry and panic I had been feeling recently. I was surprised when she told me anxiety could cause a variety of symptoms, and then she said she would try and find something to help it for when I returned. She then told me to go straight to her if I ever needed help with it, because not many believed that the mind could be sick as well as the body. 

Arya was already done her half, and said she was still hungry. I shook my head and laughed, she was just like her brothers in that regard. Always eating, yet it never seemed to go anywhere. I handed her my half and put on the squirrel. She gave me a questioning glance, but I waved her off. “I can wait for the squirrel, I’m not very hungry. I swear, between you, Robb, and Jon, I’ll never understand how Winterfell ever had enough food,” I snorted. She grinned, but didn’t respond.

“I hear you almost killed Stannis’s Red Woman,” she said out of the blue, and I blinked at her. “She tried to burn me alive at Castle Black,” I responded stupidly. She gave a impish grin, “I wish you had finished the job,” she told me. I snorted, “I do as well, truthfully,” I admitted. 

We stayed in silence after that, and I almost felt content. 

“Can you tell me about your son?” She asked quietly, and I had to strain to hear her voice. I smiled sadly, my heart aching. “He looked like Jon, but his hair is the same as mine, and his eyes are a silver berry colour. He has a dragon stuffy he loves, he can’t do anything without it, really. He was just learning to walk when he went to Dorne,” I swallowed after the last words. Arya gave me a hard look, “Why did you allow that?” She demanded again. I shook my head and blinked away tears, “I didn’t have a choice. Dany is my Head of House, and my Queen. She may love me like a sister, and Nathyn almost as her own, but save a marriage pact, we had no other way to assure an alliance with Dorne,” I whispered, my voice so dead I almost flinched. 

“So why didn’t you guys make a marriage pact with them instead?” She asked. 

I bit my cheek at my response, and shook my head. “I’m already marrying Jon again, and to suddenly abandon that for Dorne would be …” I shook my head again. “And Dany is Queen, she needs to hold on a marriage agreement.”

The words almost came easily for me. I didn’t allow myself to think of the brief time I had thought I was engaged to Oberyn. 

“You’re going to marry Jon _again?”_ She repeated and I blinked at her. “Yes… We… We were married before he swore himself to the Wall. I’d like to remarry him if he’ll have me,” I nodded. She stared at me for a few moments, then looked to the sky. I could feel Viserion coming, so I stomped out the fire. 

“I’m going to go wash my hair in the stream nearby quickly.” I muttered, picking up the remaining skirts I had, and walked away. I found the stream quickly, having seen it from before we landed the previous day. I leaned over the running water, and flipped my head over it. I repressed the urge to scream at the coldness of it, and rinsed off the colouring quickly. I was just squeezing the moisture from it when I heard a twig snap. I flipped my hair behind me, breath leaving me momentarily at the cold slapping my back, and looked around. 

I had a sneaking suspicion Arya was training with the Faceless men when I found her, and knew the girl wouldn’t make noise walking. I quickly notched an arrow in the bow I still had strapped on. Without thinking of it, the tip became ablaze with a slight hiss. I eyed the woods suspiciously. 

“Now, now, Princess, no need for that,” a voice purred from behind me. Suddenly, a hand clamped over my mouth from behind, and I bit down hard without hesitation. I gagged as blood that wasn’t mine pooled in my mouth, and I heard the person behind me swear, pulling that hand back only to replace it with another on my throat. I panicked as they started squeezing, and I grabbed the arrow I still had notched. I blindly aimed behind me, and felt it hit something. 

They gripped my hair and threw me on the ground, and I was winded by the impact. I laid there, gasping, and looked up at a dark haired man I vaguely recognized stood above me. Suddenly there was an arrow aimed at my throat, and I realized who was attacking me. 

“My Lord was so disappointed in his son let you escape. And then Lady Bolton escaped and was rumoured to be coming here… Well, we just had to do something about this,” Locke snarled above me. 

I grabbed the arrow at my throat quickly, and it was aflame before he could do anything. I glared at him as I sat. 

“Tell me, Locke, are you truly proud to be nothing more than a hunting bitch in human form? That’s all the Boltons think of you,” I raised an eyebrow at him. He growled, and I moved away, standing and facing him. “Their best hunting dog, I think that’s what they call you,” I sneered. 

“I’ve heard that as well,” Arya laughed, coming from the wood. 

“I have 20 men surrounding us as we speak, Ladies. There’s no way you’re getting out of here alive,” Locke promised, grinning in a way that had me vomiting all over him. He swore and glared at me, pulling out a sword and aiming it at me. 

Arya was fast, though, and had Needle out faster than I could blink. Locke laughed as he looked at the skinny blade, but Arya Stark was not to be scoffed at. I knew that from when she was knee high, and cut her sister’s hair from behind for calling her Horseface with Jeyne Poole. I watched her fight Locke with a smirk on her face and one arm behind her back. It took merely five minutes to have the grown man on the ground, bleeding and missing a finger or two. I laid a hand on her shoulder, looking up. She grinned, and we watched as Viserion landed. 

I quickly helped her up, arrows coming at us from every direction. I simply held onto Viserion and brushed his mind, asking if he could go. He was in the air and I heaved myself up while he ascended, climbing behind Arya. 

Unlike Daenerys, I didn’t have to say _dracarys,_ Viserion knew what I was thinking. He heated up, and I heard Arya scream out in pain. I let her grip my hands, and then I flinched as he started lighting up the forest I was just in. I felt guilt hit me, but Viserion did his best to soothe it. His overwhelming protectiveness invaded everything I was. 

Arya and I were both breathing heavily as we flew Southwest. After a few hours of my constantly looking back and reassuring myself no one was after us, I urged Viserion to land. Once we did, I held Arya down gently. She was in obvious pain, her jaw clenched and her eyes tested up. “I-I’m going to have to look, is that okay?” I asked softly. She looked at me with hesitance, than nodded. She gingerly pulled down the trousers she wore, and I bit my lip and I examined the inside of her legs. 

I let out a sigh of relief as there were no burns, and she pulled her clothes back up. I held my hands palm up, and she mimicked the action. I held them from underneath, and frowned. “Does it truly hurt?” I asked softly. She shook her head, “Not anymore,” she whispered. I gave her a sympathetic look, “I’m sorry,” I murmured. She looked at me with a confused face, “For what? _You_ were the one that would have died if I hadn’t shown up.” She rolled her eyes. 

I snorted, but let her keep her pride. “Are you going to be okay to ride or do you need a few hours?” I asked. She hesitated, then looked down. “Maybe just half of an hour,” she whispered. I nodded, and pulled her close. 

“However long you need, Arya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, this was just their _first_ day of travelling. I can’t promise the entire way back to Meereen will be this interesting, though. And I know Arya would be more angry with someone who hurt her brother as Rae did, buuuuut...
> 
> Arya doesn’t know the extent of Rae’s wrongdoings. And, she’s also just happy to see someone she knows from home. I also know I could have done a better job of her fight with Locke, but I was scared to botch it even more.
> 
> I also added in Rae is _not_ pregnant. Nausea is a common side effect of anxiety, and while vomiting isn’t as common, it can still be one as well. And Rae has some major anxiety and some PTSD going on, guys. I started making that clear all the way back to before she met Dany.


	32. Chapter 32

Sleep didn’t come easily after that. Arya insisted on watches, and always gave me the first turn to sleep. We barely stopped for more than a few hours after that, just long enough to eat and Arya to sleep a few hours. After that, we would ride again, and I would sleep on Viserion. It was a fast pace that had us nearing Meereen faster than I expected, and suddenly we were only a few days away. 

I tried not to sleep often, memories and ghosts haunting my dreams frequently. 

I knew I had fallen asleep, despite my best efforts, when I saw Winterfell around me, the Guest Houses before me where I stood in the courtyard. I looked around and no one was nearby, though I heard wolves howling in the distance. I shivered at the sound, and suddenly my feet were moving toward the Godswood. I startled as I reached the Heart Tree, seeing a sight I hadn’t thought I’d see again. 

Robb sat in front of the Heart Tree, though unlike any other time I happened upon him praying, he seemed to be expecting me. I hesitantly walked over to him, expecting him to yell as he has done every other time I’ve seen him in my dreams. Instead, he eyed me warily and I sat beside him. I waited for him to speak with bated breath, my fingers toying with the small black Targaryen pendant that hung on a small chain around my neck. Dany has gifted it to me no less than a week after she legitimized me her kin. 

Finally, after several moments of silence, Robb spoke. 

“You’ve seen Theon recently,” he commented idly. I bit my cheek and nodded. “He says Bran and Rickon live,” I whispered. He looked at me heavily a moment, “I haven’t seen them yet, so I imagine it’s true,” he nodded. I swallowed, hope fluttering in my belly. 

Then I frowned at his wording, “You speak as if you are _actually_ the Robb that is dead, and not one my mind conjures up in a dream,” I muttered. He gave a hollow laugh, “Think back to your first dream, as you so call them,” he reminded me. I shuddered, looking over toe where I knew Winterfell’s courtyard was. “You saw Prince Rhaegar, as clear as day, though you haven’t seen so much as a portrait of the man,” he reminded me. I eyed him through my peripheral, my mind going over his words carefully. 

“Jon was there, too, though. So it couldn’t have been an _actual_ visit from the dead, and besides, how would I be able to visit the land of the dead?” I asked. He shook his head, “Jon was dead, then. He was brought back to life by the Red Witch that tried to kill you less than a day after that dream,” Robb explained. 

When he didn’t continue, I snorted. “This is madness,” I laughed. 

“Maybe so, or maybe you’ll start to remember soon,” My good brother promised in a foreboding tone, and I woke with a start. 

“You okay?” Arya asked softly behind me, and I turned. “Fine,” I rasped, swallowing to wet my dry throat. She obviously didn’t believe me, but didn’t argue or push me to speak. I turned back and forced my hands to stop shaking. 

The sun was rising, and along the horizon, I saw the outskirts of Meereen. I turned back to Arya, “How are we already here?” I asked sharply. She didn’t hesitate, or shy away from my gaze or tone as most would now. Instead, she answered me with the just as much attitude. 

“You’ve been asleep for two days.”

I frowned, and turned back to look at my cousins city approaching. 

We flew for a couple more hours, and as we neared, I felt a stab of anxiety, and Viserion started to ground. I brushed his mind, trying to understand what he was doing. Once we were on the ground, I quickly climbed off of his back, which was already almost twice as long of a trip than it had been when I first made it. I walked around and stood in front of him, and he met my gaze unblinkingly. I barely noticed Arya come up behind my and watch with interest. 

He allowed me in as far to look at myself, hair greasy and knotted, dirt and grass on my skirts. My eyes were a lavender fire, all my anxiety and stress conveying as madness and fury. Suddenly, he shut me out, and I blinked at him. I hugged his snout and placed a kiss on his scale. “Thank you for everything.” I murmured. He nodded, and shook me off. I looked at him questioningly, and he turned and flew away. I laughed and rolled my eyes. 

“Well, we’re walking the rest of the way I guess.” I shrugged. “Does he talk to you?” Arya asked suddenly. I blinked at her, then shook my head. “No, though sometimes his thoughts are so clear he might as well have. Just now, he let me see how I looked, like shite,” I scrunched my nose and pulled at a stuck together clump of hair. She laughed, and I found myself giggling as well. “Maybe we can find somewhere to bathe before we enter Meereen. You really do look like shite, unlike Crown Princess at all,” Arya smirked. 

“I dare say you hardly look like a Lady either,” I snorted. She shook her head, and we started our walk. 

It took the better part of the day, and the sun was setting by the time I could see the gate to Meereen. I waited for the guard that day to come greet us, looking at Arya hesitantly. 

“We’re going to bathe in the city guards quarters before entering the city. Is that alright?” I asked. She nodded, seemingly uncaring for much now. I wondered if she slipped on the persona knowingly, or if it was just an unconscious act. I turned to the guard nearing us now, and startled when I saw Daario himself. 

“Lady Princess, we weren’t expecting you back for a week or two.” He commented as he took in the state of me with disdain. “You truly didn’t think to prepare yourself more? Your cousin’s heart will fail at the sight of you,” he chuckled. I shook my head, “I only stayed in Braavos the night, and then we rode straight here, barely stopping for but a quarter day,” I told him. He nodded and hummed, “Well, we don’t have a change of clothes for you, but there is a bath,” he offered. “I would be most grateful,” I smiled. 

Daario brought us to the small quarters kept along the city border itself, and he and Arya both planted themselves outside the door as I bathed. I sunk into the hot water with a sigh, realizing I hadn’t taken a proper bath in no less than a fortnight. I looked around and realized the only soap available was the shit that felt like sand. I repressed a groan and started to wash. I used up most of the bar on my hair alone, and when I stood, I almost gagged at how the water was nearly black. As I dressed, I almost laughed at myself. 

I really have become a spoiled Princess, I realized with disdain. Whether the realization came from my epiphany after my meeting with my mother, or spending so much time with Arya, I wasn’t sure. I braided my hair loosely over my shoulder as I left the room. “Can we have someone change the water so Lady Arya can bathe, please?” I asked Daario. He blinked at me, then looked at Arya with surprise. I smirked, “Yes, Daario, She is a Lady,” I rolled my eyes. 

He was laughing as he went to fetch someone to do as I asked. Arya looked at me with muted amusement, “So I see I haven’t truly been traveling with the Lady Princess,” she murmured. I blinked at her, but she shook her head. “I really do prefer Rae, I hope I may see her still.”

Daario brought back two Unsullied soldiers, and I pondered Arya’s words carefully. 

Daario escorted us through the streets, and I dragged an unwilling Arya shopping for new gowns with the coin I had saved for Braavos. “I know you detest the responsibility that comes with having a highborn vagina, but you must abide it until I can get the Queen more acquainted with you,” I told her bluntly as I had her sized her proper shoes. I bought myself a gown as well, and quickly changed and told the shopkeeper to dispose of our ruined clothes. 

Arya was still muttering and pulling at her gown when we reached the palace. I slapped her hand away from pulling her small clothes as we entered. She rolled her eyes at me, but I kept my amusement to myself. 

Daenerys met us in the Throne Room, and it surprised me despite myself. I knew she might because of Arya, but I had rather hoped it wouldn’t be… so public. Nobility from all of the Bay were gathered, and I curtsied, though Arya bowed. “You Grace, May I present Lady Arya of House Stark,” I called up to her. She nodded, her purple eyes studying Arya’s grey with interest. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Though, I must ask that you hand over any weaponry you may have,” Dany told her, and I almost flinched as Arya handed over numerous daggers, far more than I had realized she possessed despite weeks of traveling with the girl. She hesitated to hand over her tiny sword, and I had to give her a pleading look before she finally did. 

I understood why Dany had asked for Arya to disarm herself when Theon stepped forward, opening his mouth. I glared hard at him, and Arya interrupted him before he could speak. 

“I did not realize you had turncloaks and child killers among your party, goodsister,” she murmured, though only loud enough for Theon and I to hear. I frowned, still staring at Theon. “He claims Bran and Rickon are still alive, and that he helped Sansa escape the Dreadfort,” I told her in a stiff voice. Theon’s eyes were watering, and I internally flinched at being so cruel to such a broken soul. 

Yara came over, and grabbed Theon’s arm. She looked at us with something that resembled resentment and an apology at the same time. I nodded at her and she lead Theon away, murmuring in his ear quickly. Theon looked back at Arya, but then disappeared into the crowd. I looked up at Daenerys, and she motioned for me to come closer. I gave Arya’s hand a light squeeze before I walked up the steps to my place at her side. “You came just in time,” Daenerys smiled as I stood beside her. “We are expecting your hus-“

Just then the doors opened and a burly, obviously Northern man walked in, an ensemble of guards behind him. 

“May I present, Lord Jon Snow of Winterfell, and his sister, the Lady Sansa Stark!” he called, and then the two mentioned followed behind the coming party. 

My breath hitched. Jon came first, his curly hair in a half pulled up, not unlike how Eddard wore his own hair. His grey eyes were full of emotions, and when they met mine, the closed off. I swallowed, fighting the urge to run to him. I felt a grin splitting my face though, and he gave me a lopsided smile that stole my breath in return. 

Missendei held her chin up and spoke loud and clear. 

“You stand in the presence of Her Grace, Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regnant of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons. I also introduce Her Royal Highness, Princess Raenara Of House Targaryen, Lady of Dragonstone, Lady Regent of Winterfell, Wardeness of the North, and heir apparent to the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros and the Bay Of Dragons. With them stands Lord Tyrion of House Lannister, Hand of the Queen, and Lord of Casterly Rock,” I startled at my own titles. The last I had heard, I was heir presumptive, which was completely different from heir apparent. 

I looked at Jon, my breathing becoming difficult. _Don’t bend your fucking knee,_ I willed to him. He nodded, bowing deeply. “It is an honour, Your Grace. Your accomplishments and unparalleled success has been heard even across the Narrow Sea to my home in the North,” Jon nodded to Dany. 

I looked at Dany with a plea in my eyes, and she gave me the most sympathetic of looks. I swallowed back tears and looked back at Jon. 

He opened his mouth again, and Sansa shot him a warning glare. He ignored her though, and looked at me. “Between yourself and your Princess, I do not hesitate to offer the North’s allegiances, Your Grace,” he called clearly, and I felt my heart pound in my ear. 

Seven fucking Hells. I looked between him and Dany, who was studying him without looking at me. 

“We’ve already had a majority of the North swear their allegiances to Lady Raenara’s son, accepting her as his Regent until he turns ten and four years of age, Lord Jon. Though the thought is most kind,” she added. I hid a frown of confusion, what the fuck was she doing? 

Then I realized she was now staring at Sansa, and the two were having a power struggle silently. The redhead looked offended at Daenerys’s words, and I hid a smirk. I then looked over at Arya, whose eyes were on her siblings and full of unshed tears. I bit my lip at the sight, and suddenly felt exhausted. Weeks of flying straight and sleeping on Viserion, and the day I spent walking with Arya hitting me like bricks. 

I didn’t want to be here. I looked over at Jon, who seemed to understand what was happening, though confused as to how to feel about it. I found myself regretting, again, not just keeping him with me and going South with Robb. 

Maybe if we had done that, we wouldn’t be at this tiring meeting, in front of all of the Bay’s noblemen that we’re surely still looking for a way to defeat us. 

Daenerys stood, and looked around. “You May all go now, save our Northern visitors,” she dismissed them. I gave her a grateful look, and she looked back at me just in time to see it. 

It felt like an eternity for everyone else to leave, but as soon as the doors closed, I launched myself at Jon. My skirts became twisted underneath my feet the last few steps, and he had to catch me. When I looked up at him, we were both laughing and crying at the same time. I ran the back of my fingers down his long Northern face, and bit my lip.

“You’re here,” I whispered in a thick voice. “I am,” he nodded, leaning into my touch. I sighed and nuzzled myself into his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist tightly, listening as Sansa and Arya reunited beside us. I finally pulled away and sniffled. “I’ll leave you with your sisters, but can you try to come to my rooms later?” I whispered. He nodded, looking confused, but I gave him a kiss on his cheek and stepped back, Arya instantly taking my spot. I turned and looked at Barristan, sighing. He gave a subtle nod back, and I turned to leave the room. 

It was time to go and decide who I loved more, my husband or my sister in all but name. Because, when I told Jon, that was what my choice would be. Choosing one would be the ultimate betrayal to the other, and I only hoped my soul could survive the grief I knew was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, are you guys excited? I am. 
> 
> Just forewarning though, the big decision won’t come for quite a while. 
> 
> Stay tuned, next up we have an entire chapter for Jon and Rae’s _private_ reunion.


	33. Chapter 33

I paced in my rooms for hours, drinking wine and going into my solar to stare at my map of Westeros, _Winterfell_ looking back at me almost mockingly. Then I would go into my bed chambers and attempt to fix my hair, despite being absolute shite at it. I braided and rebranded it in a single rope multiple times, taking out every time I remembered the disgrace of wearing a single braid in front of anybody. _No more or less than four at any given time, Raenara,_ Daenerys was reminding me in my head. I huffed and moved to my study for a bit, sitting in front of the fire until I remembered this is where I first had sex with Oberyn. I had to stop the tears when I remembered Daario telling me the man had went back to Sunspear, to call Dorne’s banners as far as anyone knew. 

I drained my wine glass and placed it on my desk, leaving it there. I picked up a book, and pretended to read as if I knew the title or what the words said. My sight grew blurry after a while, though, and I put it down with a loud thump that made me flinch. 

I curled up on my chair and stared at the wall opposite of me. My mind went over words that I would have to say, and words that Jon was likely to say as well. _Whore_ and _cunt_ repeated quite often, though I knew the fear of that was stupid. Jon never used those words. Beyond Seven Hells, the man hardly ever swore. 

I don’t know how long I stared at the wall for, but I almost fell out of my chair when I heard a knock on my door. I walked over to open it, and hesitated with my hand on it. I swallowed and had to force myself to breathe as I opened it. 

Jon stood on the other side, and I had to force myself to remain calm, and move to sit behind my desk. He looked at me in confusion, and I hesitated. 

Gods, where did I start? Did I start with all the ways I fucked up, and risk him getting, rightfully, angry and leaving? Or did I start with the betrayal against my Queen? 

I was saved when there was another knock on the door, though the feeling of relief quickly left when Barristan walked in. He didn’t sit, instead opting to stand beside the desk facing both of us. 

“Have you told him anything yet?” The knight asked. I shook my head, “Nothing. I was just wondering where to begin,” I told him in a sharp voice. The knight nodded, and looked at Jon. 

“You should start with the most important, which isn’t your personal lives,” Barristan suggested and I shot him a glare as irritation bubbles inside of me. 

Jon looked between us with a look showing his own irrational, and I sighed. “Very well.” I turned to Jon and bit my lip. I poured myself and Jon wine, then looked at Barristan. He shook his head and I shrugged, sipping on my glass and holding out Jon’s. He hesitated, and I rolled my eyes. “Drink,” I sighed, putting it on the desk. He grabbed it and sipped hesitantly. I sighed again and put my own cup down, folding my hands on my lap. 

I still hesitated how to go about it, and Barristan was growing insufferable impatient as the silence grew. 

“This is treason, Barristan. Forgive me for hesitating.” I finally snapped at him. He gave me a withering look, and I glared back. Finally, he looked away, and I turned back to Jon. 

“Why are we speaking of treason?” He asked quietly. 

I bit my cheek, and stared into his eyes. He met my gaze steadily, and I realized how to do this. 

Because this was Jon, not some Southron Lord I needed to speak around my point with. This was the man I grew up with, and, up until recent years, he knew my every secret, and I knew his. We never had to play games with each other. I didn’t have to keep my court face on. So I took a deep breath, and leaned forward on my elbows. 

“Because we believe you are the son of Lyanna and Rhaegar,” I whispered. He opened his mouth, and I held up a hand. “Rhaegar Targaryen didn’t show up to battle until nine or ten months after the war began, and few people knew where he went in that time, all of them dead now. Lady Lyanna wasn’t seen either, though she was protected by Kingsguard. Why would Rhaegar have Kingsguard with her instead of in the battle?” I asked rhetorically. “There’s also the fact that…” I bit my lip and hesitated. 

“Nathyn looks like Rhaegar. According to Barristan, our son is identical to him, and I’m only distantly related to him,” I took his hand in mine. 

“That’s all pure speculation, and all it would mean is that I’m still a bastard,” Jon rasped. I squeezed gently, and ran my fingers on his face. “Prince Rhaegar was not a man to sire a bastard, no more than Lord Eddard,” I reminded him. He flinched, and I instantly regretted the words. I pulled back and drank my wine, allowing him time to process. 

“You look like her,” Barristan finally spoke. I peered up at him, this was new to me as well. Jon looked between us with wary eyes, and I hugged myself tightly. “If you do not believe us, mayhap write to Tarly and ask him to look an annulment for Rhaegar,” I suggested. 

“This is bullshit, Raenara, why are you telling me this?” He demanded. I sighed and looked absently at the wall. “Because I’ve made horrible decisions, and the things I’ve done are unforgivable. I manipulated you into going to the Wall, and slept with Oberyn Martell. Dany sent our son to be fostered by Doran, and while she did it while I was away, I…” I wiped away my tears and took a shaky breath. “I am horrible sorry, more sorry than I can ever say, and I regret my actions deeply. But as I truly have no excuses, I do not expect no forgiveness from you, despite the regret I feel inside my soul. I’ve been nothing but a disgrace to what my Father raised me to be. The least I can do is tell you of your true parentage and give you the option of what to do with it. Barristan and I are the only ones who know, and will support whatever you choose to do with it. Should you choose to take your rightful place as Rhaegar Targaryen’s son and heir, we will be by your side, if you choose to have me there even if only for the one dragon I have. If you decide that you still do not want to be King, as you have told me numerous times in the past, I will convince Dany to legitimize you a Stark and give you the North.”

I opened my eyes and stared into his dark and stormy expression, forcing myself not to break under it. 

“Viserion isn’t yours to claim,” Barristan reminded me. I turned my gaze to him, “You are correct, but neither is he Dany’s. Viserion is a sentient being, free to make his own decisions in who he will follow. As he is the other half of my soul, I can be very confident he would not allow us to be separated for any amount of time, much less fight on different sides of a fucking war if the situation arose,” I snapped. 

“You speak as if I want anything to do with you at the moment,” Jon growled. I turned back to him, and what I saw took my breath. 

His anger radiated off of him like a mist, his eyes held the wildness of a wolf more than a man. I hugged myself and shivered as the room grew incredibly cold. I glanced at Barristan quickly and he was staring at Jon with wide eyes. I think we both came to the same conclusion at the same time. 

Jon has been warging into Ghost, and the wolf was taking Jon’s anger, which was already unbelievably overwhelming, and fed it with his own, not unlike how Viserion can get when my own emotions are running high. I could only imagine how strong that connection was, since it had had years to grow whereas Viserion and I’s was still new and untrained.

The possibilities of how this meeting ended had just taken an incredibly dark turn, for both Barristan and myself. 

I grabbed my wine glass with shaking hands, almost spilling the contents on myself as I drained it. I watched Jon carefully as he downed his own cup, and stared at me afterward. I swallowed and tried to control the fear I felt. 

Without any hesitation, he took his glass and threw it to the wall beside us. I screamed and wrapped my arms around my neck, ducking quickly. My heart pounded in my ears, and I couldn’t help the sobs that ripped out of me as fear and dread filled my entire body. 

I heard the sound of metal scraping, and looked over to see that Barristan had unsheathed his sword slightly with a look of pain in his eyes. 

I straightened, still shaking and crying, and laid a hand on his arm. He looked at me, and I subtly shook my head. 

It wouldn’t do to make Jon feel like he was about to be cornered, not with Ghost having such an obvious influence on his already overwhelming emotions right then. I looked back at Jon, hardly recognizing him in that moment. His chest was heaving, his eyes clouded over with intense resentment and fury. I stood and smoothed my skirts with vibrating hands. 

Despite the shaking of my body, I raised my chin. “While I would like to continue this conversation, mayhap we should do it when you and your wolf are not feeding into each other’s anger. I understand where your anger comes from, and will apologize for causing you that pain until the day I die, but I will not subject myself to this while you are so obviously out of control.” I told him firmly. He blinked at me, as if it took a few moments to register my words. 

Finally, I heard him take a deep breath and he turned to stare at his lap. I looked at Barristan carefully, but he was watching Jon. I could see Jon was crying, though he made not a sound. Carefully, I sat back in my seat. He was staring at his hands before him on my desk. 

I sat on the floor beside him, resting my head on the side of my desk and watched him. His emotions were plain as day on his face, the anger and confusion. 

Finally, he looked at me and stood. He reached for my hand, which surprised me, but not as much as the embrace he pulled me into after I was standing with him. His grip was almost crushing me as I heard his quiet cries in my ear. I nuzzled my face into his chest, and rubbed my hand along his back. I could feel my own tears, but ignored it as I heard the sound of a wolf howling in the distance. 

I pulled back a bit and looked up at him. I brushed away his tears with my thumbs softly, and then ran my hand through his hair. 

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, wiping my wet thumbs on his cloak. He looked at me hesitantly, “I know you are. And I’m not without my own faults, but I don’t see us in a place where we can just jump into what we had before,” he looked away. I swallowed and nodded, “I understand,” I flushed, starting to pull away completely. 

He held me tighter with his one arm, and brought the other to told my chin so I was looking at him. 

“Rae, you didn’t manipulate me to the Wall. I knew the marriage hadn’t been annulled completely, and I didn’t fight nearly as hard as I should have. I married you to protect you from Ria after your father died, and was hurt when I realized you were still under her influences. I wasn’t as understanding as I should have been. We both had options, I could have gone South with Robb on my own. Instead, I went North in a child like tantrum. I then went Beyond the Wall and took a spearwife. You are not solely to blame for everything that has happened since our wedding, and I won’t have you thinking so. We’ve _both_ made mistakes,” he told me forcefully. 

I bit my cheek until blood poured into my mouth, and didn’t say a word for a very long time. 

“I… I still… Nathyn’s still in Dorne,” I shook my head, my heart clenching and breaking. 

I felt my sons absence every single moment, I still fell asleep clutching one of his toys and bawled every night. 

“His nameday’s coming, and I won’t be with him,” I choked out. “He’s almost a year old and you haven’t even met him and I-I-“ I had to force myself to breathe as I shook my head and pulled away. 

“We’ll get him back, I promise,” he murmured. I wiped my face and stared at my feet. He tucked my hair behind my ear, and I swallowed. 

“What are you going to do?” I asked in a strained voice. 

“I think we need to go home, first. I have been away from Winterfell far too long, and I think it would be safer to think on the decisions I need to make there. And you… You need to face everything that happened to you, before you can do anything else.”

I felt bile rise in my throat, and he tugged a lock my hair gently to look at him again. 

“We’re going to make it through this, Rae,” he promised gently. “We might not come out of this the way we were supposed to, with each other, but we’re going to get through this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beforeee you get up in arms about Jon seeming to forgive Rae so quickly, I’d like to ask you to please wait . Next chapter will be his POV and I’ll explain it all then.


	34. Chapter 34

JON POV

Jon sat on his bed in the rooms he was given. They were fairly large, and it was a bit overwhelming. Not as overwhelming as everything Rae had told him, though. 

He could be the son of Rhaegar. 

He could become King. 

Jon sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand. This definitely wasn’t what he expected his first day in Meereen. He wasn’t sure exactly _what_ he expected, when Rae asked him to go to her rooms, but it surely wasn’t what he got. He had realized it wasn’t going to be anything he thought when she had sat behind her desk, and he sat across from Princess Raenara Targaryen, not his wife. He remembered when Bran had been younger, and said he missed his Father after Robert Baratheon came to Winterfell. Jon had been confused, saying Father was right there, he ate meals with them and watched over practice. Bran shook his head, _“That’s not Father, that’s Lord Stark,”_ Bran had insisted. Jon didn’t understand at the time. 

Until he hardly recognized the woman before him as the girl he had grown up with. 

He laid down and looked at the ceiling, wondering just what the fuck he was going to do with everything she had told him. Sleep didn’t come that night, and he was fairly nervous for the day to come. 

Jon woke to servants bringing breakfast to the small round table in the room, and then telling him that the Queen wished audience with him as soon as he was done eating and was dressed. They also said that there were clothes already prepared for him in the closet. 

_“This really is some fancy shit,”_ a voice startled him. He turned and saw the apparition of Rae, _his_ Rae, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at the clothes he pulled out. She pulled her hair over her shoulder, and he realized that that hair was much shorter than the real Rae’s. The apparitions hair was hardly to the bottom of her ribs, the real Rae had hair that fell past her hips in an impossible way. The apparitions eyes had a sorrowful knowing glint in her eyes, where all Jon had seen in Rae’s eyes so far was exhaustion and regret. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked in a tired voice. She shrugged and pulled her knees to her chest, “Thought you would have figured it out by now,” she frowned. 

“Well I haven’t, and I don’t have time to,” Jon snapped. She gave him a sad smile, and he pulled a shirt over his head. When his head came out from the collar, she was gone. 

He let out a frustrated growl, and went to eat breakfast. It was a rather quiet affair, and just as he was finishing off the last few bites, there was a knock on the door. 

Before he could open it, a boy and young man walked in. 

“My Lord, Her Grace wishes to see you. I am here to escort you to the Small Council chambers,” the young man, and Unsullied, told him in a firm tone. 

 

“Is Ser Davos coming as well?” Jon asked. The Unsullied frowned, then bowed his head. “I will have someone send for him,” he promised. “No, we can go to his rooms on the way to the Queen,” Jon shook his head. The Unsullied hesitated, then nodded. 

Davos was awake and dressed when Jon entered his rooms. “My Lord?” Davos asked. “We’re going to talk to the Queen.” Jon told him quickly, looking back to the Unsullied. “I wasn’t able to tell Raenara about the Night King last night, and I’m hoping her cousin isn’t so quick to speak business and send me away,” Jon explained. Davos frowned at him in confusion, but nodded. 

They walked to the Council chambers in silence. After no less than ten minutes going through corridor after corridor, Jon was certain they were being lead in small circles to keep them confused. Finally, they reached double doors, and the Unsullied knocked. Without waiting for a response, the young man opened the door and motioned for them to enter. 

Jon saw Daenerys, Raenara, Barristan, and two men he didn’t know seated around a long table, a war map open with pieces scatted everywhere across the top. When they entered, Raenara had her hair clutched in her hands, a frustrated look on her face. She looked up at him and tired regret flashed across her face. 

He internally groaned, what the fuck happened now?

“Lord Snow,” Daenerys greeted. Raenara’s face became impassive, and she stared pointedly at the map, toying with a piece in her hand carefully. He couldn’t see what it was from the angle he looked at it. 

“Your Grace, before we start, I’d like to … Say something, if that’s okay,” Jon requested. Daenerys raised a brow at him, and he took a breath. 

“During my time on the Wall, we went on a range beyond the Wall. My uncle disappeared with his party in my first month on the Wall, and we went to look for him,” he started. Rae’s eyes snapped up to him, and he realized that was her first time hearing of what happened to Benjen. “On the ranging, we didn’t find my uncle. But we did find something.”

Rae was watching him intensely now, and he felt another shock at how she had changed. He forced himself to continue. 

“We found White Walkers, Your Grace. Before I left the Watch, we went to Hardhome and saw the Night King himself. The army of the dead is real, Your Grace, and they’re marching South,” he said quickly. Daenerys watched him with a blank stare, while Raenara and Barristan looked surprised, and the other men held in laughter. 

“The army of the dead?” A dark haired man repeated, eyes full of amusement. “Yes,” Jon nodded. 

“And they’re going to march South, presumably to Winterfell first?” Rae asked quietly. He nodded again, and she turned back to the map. 

“Then the rest of Westeros, yes,” he told her. She brought the piece to her lap, tucked into both hands. “I don’t suppose you’ve brought proof with you?” She asked lightly. He let out a frustrated noise, “Well… No. But when we go North, I thought-“

“You think you’re taking my cousin to a place you’re claiming is going to be overrun by dead men soon?” Daenerys asked sharply. 

“I was hoping you would both come North, actually,” Jon admitted. Raenara straightened and looked at her cousin, “I’m still going North.” She told the Queen in a clipped tone. Daenerys gave her an impatient look, “I think not. You are not going anywhere with him, whether his claims are true or not.”

“If his claims are true, and this isn’t as far fetched as you seem to think it is in a world with dragons and wargs, then the threat to the North needs to be neutralized before we think of going to Kings Landing. If not, then I still need to go gather the men to go South anyways. You have no one else to rally the Northerners except me, Dany.” Rae pushed. He startled at the wargs part, but put that thought away for later. “We can send Barristan,” Daenerys told her, frustration flaring in her eyes. 

“You _can,_ but Barristan isn’t the one the Northern Lords swore their allegiance to. How am I supposed to rule as Lady of Winterfell if I’m not allowed to step foot in the North?” Raenara demanded. Daenerys was silent as she thought. 

“If you still want to take Raenara North, to face this Night King, I need insurance that you won’t rebel the moment you have her in Winterfell,” Daenerys started. Jon opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. “So, I’d like for Lady Sansa to stay with me until Raenara has returned home,” she finished. 

He paled, swallowing thick spit in his mouth. “No, I can’t… I can’t do that to my sister. Not Sansa. She’s already… No,” he shook his head. “She won’t be mistreated, Jon,” Rae told him a soft tone. His eyes snapped to her, anger building inside of him. “She just escaped a marriage to Ramsay Bolton, Raenara. The bastard that scared _you_ so much that you burnt down Winterfell at the mention of him. She escaped Kings Landing, and I’ve finally got my family back. You want me to just _leave_ her with people I hardly know on your word?” He demanded. She flinched, but met his eyes steadily again. 

She knew exactly what she was asking of him, and to his ire, she had the nerve to act _sorry_ about it all. 

It hit him, far too late for his liking, that he should have never come here. Not with Sansa. Raenara was asking far too much of him, to leave his sister while he acts in open rebellion against Daenerys. 

“You are asking for my permission to take my own sister to fight your war against the Others, Jon Snow. You came in here demanding that I send her and one of my children North with you for this war, before you have so much as bent the knee. Is it so hard to believe I might need reassurance?” Daenerys demanded, her voice deathly quiet. “It would only be until Raenara is safely brought home-“

“I _am_ bringing her home,” Jon snapped. Daenerys’s eyes flashed, “Her home is with _me,_ Jon. _You_ left her in Winterfell to join the Watch, pregnant and alone. Abandoned her when the Ironborn and Boltons invaded the Keep. You allowed her to be raped and defiled by not trying to save her. Now you ask that I let you take her back to the place where she suffered greatly, to take her Beyond the Wall and take part in this Great War as you so call it. You, her _husband,_ dare ask these things of her after you left her in the violent hands of other men?” She was nearly shouting near the end, and Raenara took her hand. 

Jon looked away from them, the words bouncing around in his mind. 

They were true, and he wouldn’t deny them. That was the reason he couldn’t stay mad at her for what she’s done, and the choices she made. Because he had left her, and while she was being tortured by Winterfell’s invaders, he had Ygritte. 

No one spoke for quite a while, and the silence was heavy. 

“We all have our stories, cousin. And mine has made me a better person for it, someone stronger than I was before. It brought me here, with you, which would not have happened otherwise,” Raenara murmured to her cousin. “And Jon’s story… Well, it lead to something to something bigger. Bigger than politics and our war. Bigger than the Iron Throne, even. The reason we should go and help with the Others is the same reason we aren’t taking the dragons and taking Kings Landing that way, because you don’t want to be the Queen of a graveyard.” 

Daenerys regarded her quietly, and Jon’s breath caught. 

“Raenara will join you North, and Sansa will remain here. But Raenara will stay in Winterfell, and use her connection to Viserion when you travel Beyond the Wall.” Daenerys relented. He nodded, “Thank you, Your Grace.” He said quickly. “You May go now,” she nodded.

As he turned to leave, he watched Raenara place the piece in her hand back on the table. In the North. 

It was a dragon the colour of ice.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so sorry about the long wait. I hit a bit of writers block. Hope you enjoy this one.

My head was spinning, even long after Jon slammed the door behind him. I swallowed, clenching my fists in my skirts to keep them from shaking too much. I could hear Dany and Daario speaking, but it sounded as if through a tunnel. 

_“My Mama says the Long Night’s going to happen again. Because it’s actually just Macumber sleeping, and the White Walkers are his nightmares,” I told Jon idly as he poured over a book for Luwin. He hummed, still reading. I waited patiently as he took a moment to register what a said, and when he did, he looked up at me and looked confused. “Do you actually believe that?” He asked, eyes genuinely concerned for my mental health. I bit back a laugh and kept my face straight, “I don’t know. Does your book have anything to say otherwise?” I deadpanned. He shook his head, “No, Rae, my book about Aegon’s conquest does not have anything to say about the Long Night being a blue eyed giants dream,” he rolled his eyes._

I stood and walked over to the door, still dazed. I was surprised I had kept my composure long enough to continue the conversation with Jon. 

Benjen was dead. White Walkers were coming. 

What a bloody mess. 

I opened the door and walked through it, vaguely hearing Dany’s protests behind me. Jon and Sansa were in the corridor, along with Davos and the giant blonde woman, and I remembered with a start she was our next meeting. 

Today was supposed to be _easy,_ we were supposed to present the offer to Jon and leave before the day ended so he didn’t have time to plot with her. Not that Dany knew Barristan was already planning to talk with Sansa’s… woman protector about how to get her out of the city, or Dragonstone, if the need arose. That all went to shit, though. 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in there?” Jon demanded. I shook my head, “Probably.” I responded, my voice raspy. I cleared my throat, “I need some air, and they don’t really need me anymore.” I continued, ignoring the slight tremble in my tone still. Before either of them could respond, I turned on my heel and started walking down the hall. 

I could hear footsteps behind me, and assumed my guards had appeared to come follow me. 

_“Now, My little love, what story would you like to hear tonight?” Ria asked in a soft voice, laying next to me on the small bed. I looked at her and thought for a moment. “Do you wish to hear of Princess Daenerys and Daemon Blackfyre again?” She asked with a gentle smile, tucking hair behind my ear. I shook my head, scrunching my nose. “Can you tell me about the White Walkers? Did they really ride spiders the size of horses?” I asked, eyes wide. I was seven years old, and Jon had just told me the story Old Nan told him about that. My Mama laughed musically, and shook her head. “That’s what the stories say. They also say that the Others rode dragons, love. Like your ancestors, except these ones breathed ice instead of fire…”_

That was one of the last times my mother had tucked me in like that. 

I hugged myself as I walked, going over what I had ever heard about the White Walkers over the years. Of Nights King, and his unholy marriage and crimes against the North and our Gods. Of spiders, and ice dragons, and an unnatural cold that felt like it was burning. I thought of the Wall, and how there was supposedly a Horn that could cause its fall, and release the last Ice Dragon inside. 

I shivered as the air seemed to grow colder, but kept walking without seeing where I was going. 

Gods, I realized with a start, we were told about this years ago. 

_“Is everything alright, love?” I asked Jon softly as he came back from a ride with his father. He looked at me, eyes tired yet bright at the same time. He held out a white ball of fur that he pulled out of his cloak, “This is Ghost,” he said simply. My eyes went wide as I took the small little thing into my arms. “Where did you- What is this?” I asked him shakily. The creature burrowed itself into my dress, though I was tense and my heart was pounding._

_“He’s a dire wolf, runt of the litter and an albino. Father says he won’t live long, but I think I can keep him alive,” Jon said proudly, and I frowned. “Jon… You went with him to witness an execution. How in the Seven Hells did that…” I trailed off as I felt something wet on my face. I looked down and saw the thing had its paws on my shoulder, and was licking my face. I scrunched my nose, “Your breath is absolutely horrid,” I told it. It ignored me and started nipping playfully._

_“You have a dire wolf South of the Wall,” I whispered. Jon nodded, “Yes, well, compared to the Watchman who says White Walkers are coming, this is a little more believable, yeah?” I laughed, “First my mother, now a random man of the Nights Watch? We’re surrounded by madmen.”_

I stopped where I was, finally knowing right where my feet and thoughts had taken me. 

The guards looked at me in confusion, because I usually gave notice for my visits, but I ignored them. 

They opened the door without saying a word, and I stepped into Ria’s cell. 

“Raenara,” Ria breathed, moving to kneel in the corner she was curled up in. I looked around, noticing the stench was getting a little bit better now that she was over her alcohol withdrawals. “Ria,” I said in a clipped tone. 

She stood and wiped away straw from her torn dress, eyes wary. “I wasn’t expecting you, to what do I owe this honour?” She asked with a smile. I hesitated, not sure of the answer. 

After the first visit, I only came to ask her why she had done the things she had done to me. Why she would lock me on our room without food, for days at a time. Why she threatened my husband. Why she killed my father. 

She never gave me answers, and I assumed it was solely so I would keep visiting and ask again. 

The fact that it worked shamed me only a little. 

“We’re leaving, to go North,” I finally told her in a voice that sounded far more sure than I felt. “And you’re coming with us.”

“You’re bringing me home?” She whispered, eyes wide and full of tears already. I took a deep breath, “I am Lady of Winterfell now, it is only right I am the one to travel North and call the banners,” I lied easily. She nodded eagerly, “Of course, Princess.” She smiled.

That smile made me want to kill her then and there. 

“Of course, as Lady of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North, I need to show my men I have no weaknesses. You see, I’ve come to understand that men often underestimate women, and think of us as too weak and emotional to do what needs to be done,” I started. Ria hummed, “Yes, but that is usually their downfall. Because where would men be if not for their wives whispering in their ear, guiding them as to what to do?” She asked rhetorically. 

“You forget who you speak to, Ria. I think my cousin and I have done plenty without having to whisper in men’s ears to accomplish it.” I told her coldly. She smiled, again, yet this one in almost seemed warm, “Of course, my love. The young woman who brings me food told me about your adventures with the Yunkai army. I must say, the thought of you and that… beast of yours … Distresses me greatly,” She admitted softly. “I trust Viserion with my life, something I’m sure you don’t understand,” I shook my head. 

I wondered if the woman before me ever trusted anyone that didn’t have a bald head and countless children in his employ. 

“I trust _you,_ my love.” She told me softly, reaching out to me. I took a step back and glared, _“Never_ presume to touch me again. And you never _trusted_ me, you never even _loved_ me. How can I believe you truly worried about me after everything you’ve done?” I demanded. Her hands dropped to her side, and she looked at me with an unreadable expression. 

“Of course I love you, you’re my daughter. And one day, you’ll be my Queen. Of course, that can only happen if you’re alive, which is why I was so surprised to hear about you riding a dragon like you’re one of Aegons sisters,” she told me. I blinked at her, “Is that what what this is all about? You’re pretending to care because one day I’ll become Queen?” I demanded. 

I shouldn’t have been surprised that there was a reason behind the act. It just shocked me that she had so blatantly pointed it out. I blinked back tears, not wanting to show her how much it hurt. The dragon underneath reared at the perceived insult, and it took a moment to calm him. 

“Of course not, Raenara. I’m not pretending, I do love you. You’re my only child, and I’m proud of who you’ve become. But you must remember, love, that you were named for Rhaenys and Rhaenyra, in only as much as I could, both beloved Queens whose deaths involved their dragons,” she reminded me sternly. 

I shook my head, “Viserion and I aren’t… We aren’t Rhaenys and Maraxas, and he _definitely_ would not eat me as Sunfyre did Rhaenyra. Nor would anyone try to make him,” I snapped. “And if you’re so worried about it, why the Seven Hells would you name me after them?” I asked despite myself. 

“Well it most certainly never occurred to me that one day you would have your own dragon. We’re about to enter another Long Night, love, you need to be strong and smart if you want to survive it,” she told me in a hard tone I recognized. 

I bit back a groan, realizing she was about to start on in one of her mad ramblings again. 

“Yes, Ria. I’ve heard this before. Macumber is going to fall asleep again soon, which means …” I trailed off as I stared at her with wide eyes. 

She looked at me with an intense gaze, “Yes?” She asked in a hesitant voice. 

_White Walkers are coming,_ I finished in my own thoughts. I shook my head to clear it, and swallowed. “I have to go,” I whispered in a hoarse voice. Her body slumped, and I turned to bang on the door. When I emerged from the room, I saw Jon standing outside, looking worried. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked him sharply. He looked around the hall, and took a deep breath. “Trying to understand,” he said in a quiet voice. I took his arm and started walking down the hall with him, “Understand what?” I asked. 

“You. Who you are now, why you do the things you do. I knew as soon as you came out, that you’d come here. Because it doesn’t matter that the woman put you through hell, you always seem to lean on her when you need it. It seems that’s the only think that hasn’t changed…” he trailed off as we started ascending the stairs. 

“I actually… I went in there to tell her that I’m putting her on trial when we get to Winterfell…” I informed him. He stared at me, “Rae, you’re father died of a bad heart. That’s not something you can put her on _trial_ for,” he told me softly. 

“How are you _still_ defending her for this? She threatened you just so I would divorce you, how do you still think she’s innocent in my fathers death?” I demanded. Jon didn’t answer, just stared straight ahead with a blank face. 

I rolled my eyes and bit my cheek. We walked in silence for quite a while, and Jon kept looking over at me. 

“What did you mean, who I’ve become?” I finally asked as we neared my rooms. 

“Exactly what I said, Rae. You’re not… You’ve changed a lot since leaving Castle Black. It’s confusing, because you wear this mask of Princess Raenara all the time, and I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, or if it’s just who you are now.” He explained slowly, as if the words were difficult to say. 

I stopped and stared at him, confused. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “I’m just trying to figure out if there’s anything left of the old you behind the plots and schemes. Because the woman I married would never have let our son get separated from her, nor would she ask I leave my sister behind as a hostage while planning a rebellion. I’m trying, Rae. I’m trying to find a way to salvage what we had, but Gods … You aren’t making it easy,” he told me, eyes pained. I frowned and continued walking, taking in his words carefully. 

We made it to my rooms, and I led him into my study. 

“What are you planning?” He demanded quickly, and I sighed. I sat at my desk and looked at him steadily. 

“I had Ser Barristan suggest we keep Sansa here.” I admitted bluntly. His gaze turned hard, “Rae, what the Seven Hells were you _thinking-“_

“I did it because we couldn’t be blindsided by Dany. She does that to me sometimes, like when she sent Nathyn away. I couldn’t let that happen again. I couldn’t let her realize you didn’t _actually_ bend the knee and we needed to move quickly so she couldn’t figure it out. We already have plans to get Sansa out if there’s a concern for her safety,” I interrupted, trying not to show how nervous I was about the whole thing. 

He opened his mouth, but the door opened before he could say anything. I jumped as Dany walked into the room, eyes blazing. 

“Leave us,” she ordered Jon. He looked at her, and shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t, Your Grace,” he said apologetically. She glared at him, “And why not?” She demanded. “This is a _family_ matter, Lord Snow-“

“I am her family. I am her husband, and I was her family long before you even knew she existed.” Jon snapped. I clenched my teeth involuntarily, looking between them. 

“You don’t abandon family, Jon,” Dany snapped back. 

This was honestly tiring. I was sure that there would be a war between them, even without Jon deciding to take the Throne, if this continued any longer. 

“Enough!” I half shouted, exasperated. “Both of you, Seven fucking Hells.” I shook my head. Gods, I could feel Viserion rustling again, feeling slightly shocked at my outburst after the short period of numbness. I fought back an image of the dragon pacing, which almost caused a smile. I felt him settle as he sensed my emotions begin to calm. 

I idly wondered if my dragon kept me sane or was diving me mad, with the mental dependence. The more time went on, the more time we spent in each other’s presence, the less clear the border between our minds grew. 

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. I met Dany’s gaze, “I apologize for leaving the meeting without your leave, cousin. It was horribly rude of me, and I was wrong to do it.” I told her in a steady voice. 

“I’ve told you, Rae, you never need my leave. You were overwhelmed, I understand that. It’s that you immediately met with a madman afterwards,” Daenerys admitted, and I felt something twist in my gut. 

She was the sibling I chose, the person that saw me at my worst at and helped me through it. The only one who never asked me to change, just helped me through whatever it was I went through. The one who’s line of thoughts went along with mine, as proven when I attacked Yunkai and she attacked Astapor. 

I swallowed, and bit my lip. “Well.. I did meet someone mad. But it wasn’t Jon, because Jon isn’t mad. I went to my Mother after leaving the Council.” I admitted softly. 

Jon watched us carefully, and I could see that out of my peripheral vision. I could see his wariness, and my jaw clenched again. 

“Did you tell her what was going to happen?” She asked in a quiet voice, and I hesitated. 

I shook my head, “No. I-I didn’t get a chance to. She started going on one of her mad ramblings and I … I couldn’t,” I lied. She hummed and nodded, taking my hand. “I completely understand. It must be hard, not knowing when your parent is going to be lucid or not,” she told me sympathetically. 

“Ria hasn’t been my mother for quite some time now.” I told her evasively. Because God’s, she was fucking _sane_ when I saw her earlier. Power hungry, cold, and manipulative, yes, but lucid. It made me wonder if her perceived madness was actually just the alcohol she drank. 

I forced the thought away, clearing my throat. “You said you wanted to speak to me about something?” I asked, desperately changing the subject. 

“Yes, I came here to … Well, discuss the whole White Walker matter with you. Tyrion realized we need physical proof of a wight, before we commit to anything,” she said hesitantly. 

“Physical proof, as in… bringing a wight to you? Here in Meereen?” I asked with a frown. 

“No,” she shook her head, “To Dragonstone. Of course, we decided to leave that up to you. It would be your men in the North going Beyond The Wall, and bringing it to your Keep on your lands,” she explained. 

“I thought you said we were bringing it to Dragonstone, not Winterfell…” I said slowly. 

“She did, But Dragonstone is _yours,_ Rae. As heir apparent,” Jon reminded me quietly. I blinked at the both of them, having to think about it for a moment. Then I remembered Dany changed my position while I was away. 

“Oh, yes, of course. Thank you, Dany. I shall think about it.” I nodded, containing my surprise. “Thank you, I will have the ships prepare to leave as soon as you decide what to do,” she beamed. I swallowed, wondering what she would do if I said no. 

Because the look in her eyes said that there wasn’t much of a choice, really.


	36. Chapter 36

I smiled back at Dany, hoping it didn’t look like a grimace. She clasped her hands together, squeezing mine between them. “Then I shall try and come up the final decision soon,” I told her, voice far too light for even myself. “Good, good. That’s all I came to say. I guess I’m leave you two…” she said, hesitantly letting go of me. 

“Shall we have dinner in your rooms today?” I suggested. She brightened, “That would be lovely. I’ll have the kitchen make those lemon cakes,” she grinned. “I’ll see you later, then,” she nodded, leaving the room. 

I slumped in my chair as soon as the door shut, blinking away tears. 

“You love her,” Jon observed quietly. I nodded, not knowing how to respond to that. 

“How can you lie so well to someone you love like that?” He demanded. I blinked at him, surprised at his anger, “It’s not as if it doesn’t fucking hurt to do so, Jon. I just… I had to make a choice. It doesn’t mean I don’t love Daenerys any less, it just means that I choose you,” I said carefully, knowing he wouldn’t find that any better. 

“She calls you her sister, and you call her cousin. I think you do love her less,” he said in a confused tone. 

“Dany is my sister in all but blood, Jon. I never said the choice was fucking easy, did I?” I snapped. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my emotions in check. 

Jon watched me, then closed his eyes for a moment. “I just mean that she’s the only family you’ve had since your papa, and you wouldn’t _ever_ betray him like you are her.” He said slowly. 

“You are family, Jon. You are the love of my life. I had to make a choice, and I did. I made that choice before I had even met Daenerys, when we stood in front of the Heart Tree.” I explained, trying to keep my voice calm. 

“So,” I told him, deciding to change the subject. “The Dreadfort.” I pointed to its general whereabouts on the map. “Let’s get you caught up on the attack plan Barristan and I came up with.”

I pulled out the smaller map of the North exclusively, and diagrams of the siege weapons we were bringing with us. “So, we’re going straight to the Dreadfort from White Harbour, right? So, while we have men attack on land, we’ll also have men on the Weeping Waters ready to take the Dreadfort.” I began. 

Jon stared at me with interest as I went on. I showed him the diagrams and explained where everyone would be and when the weapons would be employed. 

“And if the Bolton’s expect the water attack?” He asked suddenly. 

I looked up at him and smirked, “We also have Viserion and myself. I’ll be flying towards what will appear to be the Dreadfort itself ahead of the vanguard.” I told him vaguely, pointing from where the men on foot would be attacking from, to the Dreadfort itself, and then the river. 

“You’ll be attacking whoever goes for the ships,” Jon caught on. I grinned, “Exactly.” He looked up at me, looking as if unsure how to feel about it. “But, that puts you front and centre _before_ the vanguard.” He repeated. “What if they decide to go after your dragon?” He asked slowly. I shrugged, “We dealt with something like that with the Yunkai’i. Viserion and I can handle being shot at.” I said casually, leaning back. 

“And if this doesn’t work?” Jon asked warily. I frowned and took a deep breath, knowing he would hate what I had planned. 

“It will work,” I said confidently. I looked at the papers all over my desk. We sat in silence as Jon looked over the diagrams and thought some more, than shook his head. “This is an alright plan but… do we really need you and Viserion there? With the numbers alone we could have them,” Jon said in a worried tone. I nodded, “Viserion and I need to be there.” 

Then I stood and walked around the desk. He looked up at me with a confused stare, and I held my hand out. “Come on, I want to show you something,” I told him. He stood and took my hand, following me out quietly. I led him through the pyramid and found Red Beetle on the third floor, training the new boys. He immediately stopped when he saw me. “Lady Princess, is there something I can do for you?” He asked, looking between me and Jon. 

“Yes, can you prepare a litter please? I wish to go out to the docks,” I informed him with a smile. He nodded, “Of course, my Lady. This one will do so immediately,” Red Beetle bowed. 

I thanked him and looked around, noting that my guard stood out among the rest of the Unsullied clearly now. Daenerys has changed their uniforms recently, from their regular attire to a more light armour, and they donned black cloaks with the Targaryen crest proudly. I ignored the pang in my heart and walked the rest of the way down to the front entrance. 

“Why are we going down to the docks?” Jon asked quietly. I shrugged, “I want to show you something,” I repeated. 

The litter appeared and I realized Jon was still holding my hand. He helped me up into it, and got in himself. “I’m not sure I should be here,” he admitted once we were alone. I cocked my head, and he took a deep breath. “I don’t think I should have come to Meereen, at least not with Sansa. She’s only just escaped Ramsay and now I’ve … Well I’ve put her in the same position she was in in Kings Landing, that Robb put her in. Except Daenerys has dragons, and I’m knowingly abandoning her to go off and start this rebellion.”

I took his hand and nodded, “Don’t worry, Jon. This is… Its going to be hard. But I wouldn’t endanger her the way you think. If you decide to take the Throne, I’ve already planned out how to get Sansa and Nathyn home safely. Barristan is probably speaking to Sansa and that woman right now. You forget, Barristan was one of Rhaegar’s most trusted men. He’s been to Dragonstone plenty of times, whereas Daenerys won’t be seeing it until she gets there.”

I hesitated, letting go of his hand and turning to look out the window. “As much as you don’t want to believe me, the only thing I don’t have a plan for is White Walkers.” I told him. 

“It’s not that I don’t believe that, Rae,” Jon frowned. “And there’s really no plan for the White Walkers to begin with. We just have to figure out how to keep them behind the Wall, and how to get enough Dragonglass to fight them,” he told me. I bit my lip and looked around, “So we find Dragonglass first, and figure it out from there,” I said slowly. 

“Sam told me Stannis mentioned they had some on Dragonstone,” Jon offered. I blinked at him, “So I’ll talk to Barristan about it.” I told him, smiling a little bit. 

“What do you think about Dany’s request? Is it possible to bring a Wight to Dragonstone?” I asked quietly. Jon hesitated a moment, thinking, so I continued. “If we do it, we can request that they begin looking for Dragonglass, and mining any they find. Then, once we’ve secured them a Wight for proof, we already have some to go back North with,” I thought aloud. 

“And what if it’s only a small amount? We’ll be unnecessarily risking men to get this Wight, and then what? What if there’s only enough for a few arrowheads?” Jon countered. I frowned, biting my cheek. 

“Then we’ll still get Drogon and Rhaegal to come help the fight,” I said slowly, still thinking. “As I said in the Council Room, Dany doesn’t want to be Queen of the Ashes. It’s why we’ve shut down any plans to attack Kings Landing straight away. If we can prove that White Walkers are real, and heading for Westeros, Dany will have no choice but to help us. I imagine dragons would be helpful in fighting them,” I pointed out. 

“Dragons would be a tremendous help, Rae. But we can’t fight the entirety of the Army of the Dead with three dragons not yet fully grown. If they were all as large as Balerion the Dread, Maybe, but they’re not and it would be incredibly foolish to think they could grow that much in the time we have,” Jon shook his head. 

“No, but it’s better than nothing, right?” I asked, hope filling my tone. He nodded, “Of course it is,” he said. 

I hugged myself and gave a hopeful smile. I felt the litter slow and looked out the window. “We’re here,” I told him just as we stopped. 

Jon got our first, and helped me down. I grinned at him and clasped his hand tightly. “Come on, I really want to show you this,” I told him excitedly. He hesitated, but allowed me to pull him along. 

We stood on the edge of a cliff, overlooking Meereen’s docks. I heard a sharp intake of breath beside me, and I counted our ships in my head. I pointed to a score of ships separate from the rest, and looked up at Jon. “Those ones are the ones we’re taking North.” I told him. 

I watched his eyes widen and smirked. I leaned my head on his shoulder and felt his arm slide around my shoulders. “Of course, we also have roughly 46 more ships waiting at White Harbour. You see that right there?” I pointed to a corner of the docks that had a cluster of men in it. “Yes,” he said quietly. 

“That’s where they’re keeping the siege weapons we’re bringing. It won’t be many, less than a dozen, but still.” I told him. He hummed and I looked at him and raised a brow. 

“Still think we don’t stand a chance?” I asked. He shook his head, and I held back a laugh. 

“You helped Barristan with all of this?” He asked curiously. I nodded, “We sat in the War Room for countless nights working everything out.” I told him, thinking back to to the long nights we spent discussing it and arguing back and forth. 

“How did you come to learn about war tactics?” Jon asked, and I bit the inside of my cheek. I didn’t answer for a moment, thinking back to everything that’s happened since I stepped into my cousins city. 

“I didn’t have a choice, really.” I finally spoke, then another idea formed in my head. “Come on,” I said suddenly, straightening and tugging on his arm gently. He followed me back to the litter, seeming to accept I wasn’t going to tell him what I was dragging him into now. 

I spoke with my guard quietly, and he hesitated. After a few more moments, they relented and I joined Jon in the litter. 

“You don’t seem as excited about this trip,” Jon commented. I shook my head, “This ones more,,, I’m sorry, this ones for me. I hope you don’t mind,” I told him quietly. He shook his head, “No. If we’re leaving soon, you should get things you need here done,” he told me, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. 

I didn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride, and Jon didn’t push me to. 

I thought about what happened the last I traveled to this place, and what happened after. I hugged myself and forced myself to breathe, reminding myself it would t do any good to break down right then. 

But then we stopped, and I looked out the window. 

The Gates of Fate stared at me from outside, and I blinked to push back tears. Jon grabbed my hand, and I let him help me down. 

I stood for a moment, staring at Daznak’s Pit with horror. Jon held tightly onto my hand, and I began walking in. 

“This is where they held the Great Games,” I began explaining. “Where slaves fought one another for the Masters. Dany decided to reopen the pits, hoping it would appease the Former Masters.” 

We entered, and I hesitated as I looked around. I could still hear the cheers, and then the screams, as I looked around and remembered the massacre I witnessed here. 

“It didn’t end well, and the Sons of the Harpy has used the Great Games to slaughter not only our men, but everyone they could reach.” I told Jon. 

I looked up at the dais, and pointed to my seat. “I sat there, during the event. Jorah was fighting, and he had won. He was standing right… here,” I dragged Jon through the pit to stand where Jorah had, and looked at where we had all been sitting. 

“After he won, there was outrage, no one was happy. They were booing and suddenly…” I eyed to the seats Daenerys and Hizdahr were in, “He threw a spear, aiming right… there,” I adjusted so I could point exactly where the Harpy had been. 

“That could have hit Daenerys,” Jon pointed out. I shook my head, “There was a Son of the Harpy, right behind them and Daario, and it landed square in his chest,” I remembered, seeing the sight before me. 

“And then the Harpies attacked from everywhere. They were in the stands, in those little walkways,” I pointed to one of the entrances I was talking about. 

“Why are we here, Rae?” Jon asked in a hesitant tone. I frowned, “This place is the reason I had no choice about learning war. After the attack, Dany left, and I had to keep going without her. And ... Because … I just need to figure something out,” I added absently as I looked around. 

_“I was in there, too, Princess. How could I have been a part of it?”_

I sighed and pulled the loose part of my hair over my shoulder, wondering just what the fuck happened. 

Jon didn’t respond, and whether it was because he didn’t know what to say, or because he realized I needed a moment, I couldn’t say. 

I walked over to where Oberyn put me down and I realized he was expecting to die, and looked around. Jon stood where Jorah had all that time ago, and I squinted across the Pit. 

“Where did you go after that?” Jon called it, and I pointed to where the giant pot laid on the ground. “I went over there, where one of the green boys training to be an Unsullied was standing with the pot. We told every one of our guards that day if there was any sign of trouble, they were to light their pots so I could…” I trailed off, walking over. 

Jon followed me this time and I leaned down to look at the pot. Wood still sat in a pile an arms reach away, and looking around, I realized they all wood near them. 

_“I didn’t get the order-“_ I remembered. 

“So, the Sons of the Harpy were attacking, and the men were supposed to light these pots? You told them all this?” Jon asked, looking around with furrowed brows. I shook my head, “Not men, boys. We … I told Dany to have all the boys in training so they could learn how to make judgement calls. We told them that they were to light their pots, and use their own judgement for it,” I explained absently. 

“So why is this the only one that was lit?” Jon asked in confusion. 

_“I didn’t get the order-“_

“Because someone told them they were to wait for an order,” I murmured, heaving a sigh. 

“Rae, you need to tell me exactly what you’re thinking if I’m going to help you understand anything,” Jon said in a firm tone. I looked at him, and bit my lip. 

“I ruled in Dany’s stead for a month while she was away and… I imprisoned the man she was supposed to marry. Really, I forgot about him. Because he answered my questions, so I decided to let him rot…” I shook my head. 

Hizdahr Zo Loraq was underneath the pyramid at that very moment, and I forgot about him. Which was stupid, because I was the only one who knew he was there besides the guards from my own men I set to watch over him. 

“I just got distracted, from the Masters, from the fleet burning, and …” I shook my head. _From finding out I was losing the North._

“So nobody else knows he’s in the cells? How?” Jon squinted at me. “Well, it was simple. He was stabbed in the attack, and I put him in the cells as soon as the Healer said he would live. My personal guards watch over him, my handmaidens feed him, just as they all do with Ria. I had the Healer tell Tyrion, and everyone, that Hizdahr died from his wound. Even though, really, it was a wound that took no more than two weeks to heal over. I just… Didn’t find him important enough after getting my answer from him,” I frowned, looking around again. 

“And what answer was that?” Jon asked, and I hugged myself. 

“Who was funding the Harpies. It was why I charged the Masters with treason, why I went to war with them, even if it was only the one battle, I just…” I shook my head. 

_“I do believe there are more things for us to work out,” I grinned at the men of my council. We went back into the Council chambers._

_I sat at the table, in my customary spot at the first seat on the left of the head, and Tyrion sat across from me. I looked around, “What are we going to do about Hizdahr?” I asked him. He hesitated, “Well we have to see if he survives first,” Tyrion began. “And if I does?” I asked, holding the edge of my seat. Oberyn looked at me curiously, and I subtly shook my head._

_“And then I believe it would be best for him to take over, in the Queens place until she returns.”_

“I couldn’t let him destroy what w-Daenerys worked for,” I whispered. Jon blinked at me, moving right in front of me. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, eyes burning into me. I looked away from him, biting my cheek. 

“He would have ruined everything, but the Council thought he was the best option. The son of a Former Master in charge, it was their idea as the best way to calm everyone down. I couldn’t let that happen, because he would have began to tear apart the entire structure we were building, he would have set back _all_ the progress we made with the smallfolk. I didn’t have a choice, Jon,” I said, my voice sounding desperate. 

“How did you get your answers?” Jon asked firmly, and I looked up at him. His eyes were wide, and I blinked at him. 

“Rae, what did you do?” He demanded. 

Realization hit me like a boulder, and I swallowed. “Do you think I… _tortured_ him?” I asked, the words sticking to my throat and almost gagging me. Jon hesitated, and I stepped back from him. 

“Of course I didn’t, Jon. I’m not a fucking monster,” I snapped. “Okay, you didn’t torture him, but you did throw him in a cell and forget about him,” Jon pointed out. “I did the same with Ria, do you think that’s a horrible thing, as well?” I asked sharply. 

“Compared to what I’m hearing you did to this man, I think you’re treating Ria like a guest,” Jon frowned. I bit my cheek again, blood pooling in my mouth. 

“So what should I do?” I asked slowly. Jon thought a moment, then grabbed me by my shoulders. “You do the right thing, and tell Daenerys what happened to the man she was supposed to marry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the Hizdahr thing isn’t a last minute add on, it’s just something I couldn’t figure out how to put in without completely giving it away and/or having it seem out of place. Except... Now I’ve completely thrown it in there without any context. Sorry about that. I’m working on that, promise.


End file.
